Target
by Michelle P
Summary: Sam is having visions of a nineteen year old psychic, who was murdered by a demon and Sam is the creature’s next target.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing involved with Supernatural, this story is done purely for my own enjoyment and that of the readers.**

**Summary: Sam is having visions of an eighteen-year-old psychic, who was murdered by a demon and Sam is the creature's next target. **

**A/N: Here's my next idea, hope you all enjoy it!**

**TARGET**

**Chapter 1**

It hurt to breathe. With every gasp, he felt his heart stagger in his chest, unsure if it wanted to continue or not. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed and helpless. Slowly, painfully, his life was abandoning him and leaving him to fend for himself, something that he couldn't do. For him, fighting was not an option. The man holding him smiled through near-white eyes, pricked with a distant, green pupil. Chalk coloured skin covered his face and the smile pulled it tight against sharp cheekbones.

The boy screamed. With his able mind, he reached for help. He searched the darkness for one that would listen. He brushed against another like him, not the same, but similar. Similar was all that he needed. He grabbed the misty fabric of the other's mind and pulled, alerting the person of what was happening. He showed pictures of the thing that had him pinned, and warned of the danger that it presented. His life was nearly gone and he was standing, broken, only with the aid of the thing that had him. He held the other's mind tightly, but his grasp was slowly failing. The man holding him sensed the other and smiled maliciously. He let the boy go and smirked as he fell with a lifeless thud to the hardwood floor.

The thing's eyes shifted to pale grey and the pupils darkened to black. Fair colouring seeped back into his face and he looked human again. The fabric of the other's mind was ghosting away. He snatched it back and memorized the pattern before releasing it. This one knew all about him, he'd been told by the dead one on the floor, he couldn't let him get out alive. Identity was a secret, and he wanted it kept as such.

* * *

Sam snapped from sleep with a shout and his head pounded in tune with the music Dean had in the Impala's player. What had he just experienced? It had been like a vision, but there was definitely something different about it. He'd seen little more than quick flashes of a demon and a murder. The demon had changed; the victim had fallen dead at its feet. Still, there was something else, kind of like the victim had been reaching to him for help, but Sam knew that it was already too late. He could feel it. 

The car was idling in the parking lot of a motel and Dean was nowhere to be seen. Sam's eyes scanned the dimly lit grounds and rested on the front window to the motel office. Behind it, Dean was leaning over the front counter, flirting with a pretty redhead who was dangling a room key teasingly in front of Dean's face.

The youngest brother distractedly turned the radio off and leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. He carefully massaged his temples to banish the pain that rested there and hoped Dean would cease flirting and get the key so he could take some pain-killers and wait out the headache in bed. His hopes were answered when Dean playfully snatched the key from the woman's fingers and left the office with a satisfied smile lying against his lips.

The older brother crossed the parking lot and as he walked around to the driver's side, he wrapped on the passenger side window. That smile was still pasted to his face. Sam groaned. He wasn't ready for the positive aspect of Dean's mood at the moment. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep off the pain that hadn't yet subsided.

"Sammy! It's about time you woke up. You've been asleep for the better part of five hours. The silence was driving me nuts!" Dean shouted through the window. Sam grimaced at the level of his voice, but Dean had already started around to the driver's side door.

He ducked inside and held the key up. "Room thirteen. How weird is that?" Dean questioned with a tone of amusement in his voice.

Sam didn't answer; he seemed to be staring into the dim parking lot and not paying much attention. Dean reached over and punched his brother lightly on the arm.

"Sam? You okay?" Dean questioned.

"Headache." Sam answered.

"Vision headache, or regular headache?"

"Vision, but more like a dream."

"You wanna talk about it?" Dean asked curiously, his smile had fallen from his lips and now nothing, but concern rested there.

"It was more or less just flashes. There was something about a demon and a killing. I think."

"Sammy, if I've learned _anything_ about your _flashes_, it's to not take them lightly. Do you feel like it's something we should check out?"

"Even if it is, it's already too late."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just _know_, alright?" Sam asked, slightly snapping, and then regretting it.

Dean didn't seem to notice. His face remained concerned, not even flickering to portray hurt or anger. He was just worried. He turned around and grabbed a shopping bag from the back.

"Here, I got this for you at the last stop." Dean handed Sam a bottle of water.

"Thanks." Sam replied. His voice was softer and gentler than previously. He snapped the top and raised the bottle to his lips.

"You wanna turn in for the night?" Dean asked, noting the paleness of Sam's face. The younger nodded and replaced the cover back on the bottle.

Dean started the Impala, drove around to the back of the motel, and pulled into the parking space in front of the window of room thirteen. He handed the key to Sam.

"Go on in, I'll get the bags." The eldest Winchester said simply. Sam didn't argue. He slowly got out of the car and made his way to the door.

After a few seconds of fumbling with the lock, the knob turned with a click and the smell of motel room hit him in the face. He searched the side of the wall for the light switch and illuminated the room in yellow light that came from two spots overhead. Sam tossed the key down on the small table next to the window and draped his jacket over one of the chairs before making his way to the back of the room where the bathroom was.

A sink was in a small alcove and against a wall outside the bathroom itself and a closet was on the other side. He turned the water on and splashed some of the cold liquid onto his face. It beaded down his cheeks and he brought his head up to look at his pale reflection in the mirror. He pulled a towel off of the counter top beside him and pressed it against his skin. When he lowered it, the mirror reflection had changed.

Now, aside from himself, the mirror reflected two others, a young man pinned against the wall by another man. Sam looked behind him, but saw nothing of the sort. He blinked, but the image didn't go away. The younger man in the reflection was struggling against the other, trying to free himself from his captor. Neither man seemed to notice Sam. The youngest brother watched as the man holding the other slowly transformed into something not quite human, but close enough to be confused.

The man's skin paled to match the white tone of a dead man, and from what Sam could see, his eyes were nearly absent of all colour except for a single prick of green in the centre of each. It felt as though he was standing right in front of the man, yet he was at least five feet away. He saw the man's face, a malicious mask of satisfaction, and he saw the glistening tone the skin took on, as though the face was covered in a thin sheen of glitter. It might have been pretty, if the man wasn't trying to kill him. Wait, no. Not him, the other one, the one he was watching die from a distance.

The pinned man slumped into the hands that held him upright and Sam felt the life draining away from _him_, as though _he_ were the one dying. He staggered into the countertop in front of him and braced himself against it, while still staring at the scene in the mirror. Blinding pain erupted inside Sam's skull and his face flushed with pain. His vision fuzzed as though he were going to pass out and he saw flashes of the pale man staring at him with those green-pricked eyes. He brought a shaking hand up to brush across his eyes and heard a single, whispered word buzz in his ear as though it was directly beside him.

"_Help."_ The voice was unfamiliar, but Sam knew it was that of the young man being killed.

That man dropped to the floor and Sam's knees nearly gave out beneath him. The only thing holding him upright was the countertop in front of him. He raised his head to the mirror and saw the pale faced man staring at him. The man's appearance changed and his eyes darkened to pale grey, with normal, black pupils. The skin tone darkened to a fleshy pink and he walked towards Sam. The man passed the mirror and cast a look into it, smiling maliciously. Then he was gone, and Sam was left looking at the young man on the floor.

There was a shattering crack and the dead man's face appeared in the mirror, not a foot away. The only thing reflecting on the man's face was pain, and another crack followed sending sharp pain blooming behind Sam's temples. The younger brother staggered back with a shout, but felt hands catch him. He looked back to the mirror and saw that it had returned to normal and the only reflection there was that of Sam being supported from behind by an alarmed Dean, who's expression showed fear over the younger's safety.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Sam?" Dean exclaimed. Sam was struggling to breathe in the older man's arms and Dean's heart pounded in his chest.

"It's okay. You're okay, just take it easy. Breathe, Sammy, c'mon, you're fine." Dean mumbled words of comfort in his little brother's ear as he eased the young man gently to the floor and sat next to him, supporting the youngest Winchester against his shoulder.

Sam struggled to regain his breath and push the blinding pain in his head away. Breathing wasn't supposed to hurt, but it did. His chest felt like it was caught in a belt that was only tightening. He coughed; trying to force breath past his constricted airway and felt the rim of a glass brush gently against his lips.

"Take a drink, Sammy." Dean replied softly. The younger obeyed and swallowed the cold liquid. His breath slowly returned, but his face was pale and his he shook in both exhaustion and anxiety.

"Tell me what you saw." Dean replied soothingly, still holding the younger against him.

"The mirror…something in the mirror." Sam said. His voice sounded afraid and he coughed as his breath hitched in his chest.

"Easy. Take your time, tell me when you're ready, okay? Don't rush." Dean whispered.

This wasn't like Sam. Sam was never this afraid after a vision. Whatever he had seen had sent him into a panic, and it was so out of character for him. He watched Sam nod and draw in shaky breaths. Some of the colour returned to his face, but his eyes were still afraid.

They sat on the floor against the wall outside the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes before Sam felt ready to talk. He gently pushed away from Dean, looking embarrassed at the situation, but still thankful for his brother's presence. Dean smiled, also embarrassed, but he didn't regret what he'd just done. It was his duty to protect Sam and make him feel safe. It was his job to be there for the younger, incase he was needed. Just like when they were kids and Sam had had a nightmare, Dean had been there to offer the little one comfort. He'd lay with him until the younger fell asleep and then he'd slowly slip away from the room.

"Okay?" Dean questioned timidly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Sam replied.

"No problem. Now, do you want to tell me what happened?" Dean questioned, back to business.

He pushed himself off of the floor and Sam followed, avoiding the mirror as he passed to sit on the edge of one of the beds. Dean sat across from him and locked eyes with his brother.

"I saw something in the mirror. It's like what I saw earlier in my dream, only more real." Sam replied, rubbing his forehead idly.

Dean dug into the first aid kit for a bottle of painkillers, shook two of the pills into his hand and handed them to Sam, along with the bottle of water he'd gotten him.

"Thanks." Sam replied, looking up temporarily. He swallowed the pills and set the water bottle aside.

"There were two men, well, _one_ man and some sort of demon. The demon killed the other one, but I felt like it was killing _me_. I could feel the man dying, it's like we were connected or something."

"Is this another of those creepy connection things?" Dean asked nervously, thinking of what had happened with Max the last time Sam felt connected.

"No, it wasn't. It was different, way different. I don't even know how to explain it."

"Try." Dean replied simply.

Sam thought about all the possible ways to explain what had happened, but no matter what he thought of, it didn't quite seem to explain it fully. It always seemed as though something was missing.

"I can't, Dean. The demon killed him and I felt it. I saw the man die, but I felt like _I_ was dying too. That demon is still out there, Dean." Sam spoke.

"Do you have a location?" Dean questioned.

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Then there isn't anything we can do about it."

"I know." Sam replied, feeling the effects of the painkillers he took finally setting in. The headache was dulling, and his eyelids felt heavy.

"I thought these were non-drowsy." Sam replied, rubbing his eyes.

"They are, I read it myself when I picked them up." Dean replied, he picked up the bottle and read through the side panel.

"Acts quickly to provide temporary relief of headaches, arthritis pain, muscular aches and sprains, fever and menstrual cramps. It isn't that time of the month for ya, is it little brother?" Dean teased, trying to lighten the dark mood. Sam glared.

"Never mind. It says it's unlikely to cause stomach upset or gastric irritation. Well, there's some good news, you're not gonna be running to the bathroom twelve times in an hour at least." Dean grinned at the look Sam shot him.

"Dosage: Adults (12 years and older). Take one to two tablets every four hours or as needed. It is hazardous to exceed eight tablets per day. Y'hear that, Sammy, I don't want ya popping any more than eight of these buggers a day, got that?" Dean replied with a smile. Sam stayed silent.

"Listen here, side effects may include allergic reactions, such as rash or itching, dizziness, or dro…oh, wait…drowsiness. I must've missed that part, sorry Sammy. It's bed time anyway." Dean replied simply. He kept his eyes on the panel and his eyes glistened with amusement.

"Pregnant women should consult a physician before taking this or any other pain medication for risk of harming the child. You're not hiding something from me, are ya little brother?" Dean grinned and dodged a pillow that was tossed his way.

"Shut up, Dean." Sam replied, but his tone wasn't scolding, it was relieved at the lightened mood in the room.

"So, it's not time to break out the booties and call me uncle Dean?" Dean asked through a smile. Another pillow was tossed at him. He caught it at his chest, lay back on the bed and put it under his head. He reached for the remote control and turned the television on.

Sam smiled, pushed himself from the mattress, and went about preparing for bed while Dean watched TV in the other room. He avoided looking in the mirror at all times, dressed quickly, washed up and then made his way back to the bed, pillows still missing.

"Dean, gimme the pillows." Sam replied, his gaze drifting to the eldest Winchester.

"I didn't hear the magic word. Did you leave your manners at the door? If so, you'd better go out and pick 'em up." Dean teased.

"Gimme the pillows, jerk." Sam teased.

"Tsk, tsk, are you sure it's not that time of the month?" Dean replied tossing the pillows to Sam with a smile. The younger glared, and pulled the sheets down to get in bed. He heard Dean get up to shut the light out and the room was flooded with darkness, except for the dancing light of the television screen.

Sam lay in bed, allowing the feeling of sleep to gently wash over him, when the news came on the television. He cracked one of his eyes open as a woman's voice floated from the speakers.

"_In tonight's news, the death of a nineteen year old, self-proclaimed psychic is thought to be suspicious."_ Sam opened both eyes and stared at the screen.

"_Jonathan Dayton was found early this morning by his mother in his south Serenity home. The boy, back from university for the summer had been living with his parents when it happened, but they reported that they didn't hear anything suspicious coming from the study where the murder took place."_ A picture of a young man with dusty blonde hair and blue eyes flashed on the screen and Sam sat up in bed.

"That's him! That's the man the demon in my vision killed! Dean, that's him!" Sam exclaimed. Dean turned his head to Sam and his face, although shadowed in the dark, was clearly confused.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Are you sure?" Dean questioned.

"Yes, I'm positive. That's him." Sam said quickly.

"Well, if that's the case, then that demon you saw, is here, in this town." Dean answered.

"Serenity?" Sam questioned timidly.

"Yeah, we just passed the town limit when I saw this motel, figured I'd stop for the night, cause you were sleeping like a rock, and I was pretty tired myself." Dean responded.

"If that's true, then that demon could be anywhere, and it knows that I know what it is." Sam replied.

Dean nodded and suddenly the dark room seemed so much darker than it was. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed as the news story went off the air and switched to commercial. Dean turned the television off and plunged them both into a thick black, broken only by the flashing numbers of the alarm clock. There was movement and the lamp between them turned on. Dean got to his feet and temporarily left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. He returned a few moments later, holding the container of salt in his hand.

Carefully, soundlessly, he went about salting all of the doors and windows in the room and somehow, Sam felt safer. He now knew that the demon couldn't get in, and that made him feel a little better. The drowsiness from the pain medication took hold again and Sam felt himself drifting into a sleep that he couldn't fight. The movements of Dean comforted him and he slowly succumbed to the darkness that edged his vision.

Dean walked out from salting the bathroom and cast worried eyes to where Sam lay. To his surprise he saw that the younger had given into sleep and was quietly huddled on the mattress, a tense look on his face. Dean sighed and reached over to gently pull the sheets up over Sam's rigid body, the language of which hid the concern over what was to come.

"G'night, Sammy." He whispered softly and settled himself on his own bed, and leaning against the headboard, he fought sleep, concerned for the other's safety.

Eventually, however, although he fought brilliantly, sleep won the battle and Dean's head nodded to his chest as though in prayer and he slept. The motel room was silent except for the steady breathing of the two brothers who had taken up residence in it. The wind sang outside, brushing against the window and caressing the land with its gentle song. One of the brothers sighed in his sleep and the sound echoed in the room.

The salt barriers at every window and door kept the predators that haunted the night away from them. They were secluded in their own little safe haven, but the eldest, even in sleep was still unsettled. His face was stonily blank; not calm like what was usual, but tense and determined. He forced his way out of sleep, only to have it pull him back under again. He couldn't fight it with all the strength that he possessed. It just wouldn't let him win.

The youngest brother tossed and turned, throwing the sheets that his brother had lovingly pulled over him, away and they soundlessly collapsed to the floor and lay helpless where they fell. Sam's face flashed with a variety of emotions, ranging from sadness to terror and stopped somewhere in between. His breath was sharp in his chest as though he was running from something, but his legs weren't moving. He grabbed at the bedspread, not realizing that he was doing so, and his knuckles turned white with the strength. Dean slept on, not fluttering an eyelid, but still concerned. It could be seen on his face.

Sam's mouth moved in a soundless whisper that fluttered past his voice box only to die groping for an exit in the young man's mouth. The younger Winchester bit down, and blood seeped from the slit in his lip that he had created. His head jerked from one side to the other, ungracefully pushing away the pillows that protected the back of his skull. His hands dug into the mattress at his sides. He kicked at something as though to banish it, but it clearly wasn't working. His eyelids fluttered restlessly and he cracked them open to cast a desperate glance to where Dean sat, asleep. His eyes closed again, only to open once more and stare at the light curtains covering the window of room thirteen. A shadow moved behind the curtain and Sam shot to sit, instantly aware. Dean shifted position, but didn't move.

The shadow outside the window stood still, and Sam knew that whatever was out there was staring at him. It knew he was inside, but the salt prevented it from getting in. On shaky legs, Sam stood and slowly made his way to the window. He wasn't sure what pulled him there, but something did and he found himself answering to it. At the window, he reached out a hand and grabbed a handful of the curtain to rip it back away from the glass. The moonlight rushed in and a shadow stood silhouetted within the beams. Sam stared, his eyes not moving from what he saw.

Outside the window, The boy known as Jonathan Dayton stood watching through wide, frightened eyes. The young man said no words, yet his mouth moved as though he was speaking, but Sam couldn't hear. The man outside pressed a hand against the glass and the light eyes stared into Sam. Flashes rushed through the young man's head and he immediately brought a hand up to rub his forehead as it burst into pain that shattered his world. The flashes were the same as before, the demon killing Jonathan, the pinpricked green eyes watching him maliciously and a single, whispered word chimed in his ear as his knees weakened.

"_Help."_ The man outside the window mouthed the word and kept his hand pressed against the glass.

The flash of the pale man came again and Sam was staring into the sheen-covered face of the demon and it smiled at him. Sam's lungs cried for air that wouldn't come and his knees gave out. He fell forward and caught himself against the window. His hand fell against the hand of the dead boy outside and Sam's world changed. A ripping pain that started in his chest and spread throughout his body overcame him. His voice cried out into the moon-bathed room and the sound reverberated off of the walls. Sam's face was flushed as he slid to the ground, his hand leaving a trailing streak on the crystal glass, but never leaving the windowpane. The dead boy's eye drove into him and the word was whispered again.

"_Help."_

Sam blinked and when he opened his eyes, the demon stood outside the window, his hand against Sam's and a nasty smile hanging thickly against his sharp face bones. Sam felt his life being torn from him and resisted it. The demon quickly pulled his hand back away from the glass and Sam collapsed in a heap, ungracefully. His eyes grew heavy as unconsciousness pressed down on him and the last thing he saw before passing over was once again the dead boy staring through the window with a look of sorrow on his face. Sam passed out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Dean had heard Sam yell out, and it had instantly yanked him from sleep. He sat straight up, cast eyes to Sam's bed, saw nothing and then turned to where a strangled voice struggled to speak. Sam was leaning into the glass window and he was fighting for his breath, his voice, his strength, everything. Dean shoved himself out of bed and made his way quickly toward Sam, but stopped when something shimmered outside the window. He saw two pinpricks of green surrounded by white and he was frozen to the spot. He couldn't move toward his ailing brother as much as he wanted to.

"Sammy?" Dean called out, his voice crackled in the electrified silence, broken only by Sam's ragged breathing and wheezing voice.

Sam flinched, as though he was trying to turn around, but didn't get far before he clearly lost the fight and slumped, unconscious to the ground. Dean kept his eyes on the thing outside the window and felt cold spots break out all over his body.

"What did you do to him?" Dean asked, his teeth were chattering from the sudden chill.

The demon didn't speak. There was a snapping sound in the room and Dean instantly felt a sharp pain jab him in the side as though he'd just been hit in the ribs with the butt of a gun. It crippled him, but he was unable to double over to protect his side. Instead he was forced to stand upright as the pain cursed his body. There was a twisted smile setting on the lips of the demon and it continued to stare at him. Dean was nearly convulsing because of the chill that he was feeling. He shook madly and couldn't seem to bring the shivering under control. The demon raised a hand, and with barely a wave sent Dean hurdling back to tumble over the first bed. His head hit the corner of the nightstand and he landed painfully and tried desperately to recover the breath that had just been forced out of him by the landing.

When he felt well enough to paw his way back to his feet, the demon in the window was gone and Sam was having a near-seizure on the floor. Ignoring the pain he felt, Dean scrambled across the double mattress and rushed to kneel next to Sam who was still unconscious. Dean got to his feet and pulled a pillow from the nearest bed to gently place beneath Sam's head to keep it from hitting the floor. There was a knock at the door and Dean's eyes focused on it. While he kneeled next to Sam, refusing to move, a key turned in the lock and a hand reached to the light switch to flood the room with colour.

"The neighbours said they heard a disturbance. Sounded like somebody was getting killed. Are you two okay in here?" The voice was that of a woman.

Dean bolted to his feet and hurried to the door to confront the woman before she came inside. She took one look at him and her face melted to concern.

"You're bleeding." She replied, stating the obvious.

"Uh yeah, I slipped in the bathroom. My brother forgot to mop after he washed up." Dean replied.

"Well, do you need a doctor?" The woman asked, her eyes were playful, but worried.

"Cause, I have some medical training." She said simply.

"And how I'd love to take you up on that offer, but my brother's asleep, he wouldn't like it much if I let you in, now would he?" Dean questioned, slapping on his most genuine smile.

"You could come to the office, nobody comes after midnight. It'll be quiet." She said.

"No thanks, I'm a married man." Dean responded.

"You're not wearing a wedding ring."

"Don't need one, I'm married to that girl right there." Dean pointed lovingly to his car.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "You men are all the same, worried about nothing but your looks and your cars." She replied heatedly.

Dean smiled sheepishly. "Guilty as charged." He said and the woman pulled the door tightly shut, filling the room with a sharp slam.

Dean turned his attention back to Sam, who was now lying still on the floor. He dropped quickly next to the younger one and pressed a gentle hand against the cold cheek.

"Sammy, wake up for me, will ya?" Dean asked the closed eyes of the dark haired man on the floor.

He was rewarded with a fluttering of eyelids from Sam and smiled, not hiding his relief.

"Dean?" Sam called.

"Yeah, I'm right here. Are you okay little brother?" Dean questioned.

"I think so. You're bleeding, what happened?" Sam questioned pointing to the general region on his own forehead.

"I got on the bad side of an angry demon." Dean responded.

"Why didn't the salt barrier work?" Sam questioned.

"It kinda did. At least the thing didn't come in. It did its damage from the outside." Dean stated.

"How?"

"I dunno, but we should find out. I'll start some research, maybe dad mentioned something about it in his journal."

Sam nodded and rubbed his temples. "Do you think it'll be back?"

"Hope not, but you never know. It's better to be prepared."

"I'll search the Internet." Sam replied and gently pushed himself to stand.

On uneasy legs, he walked to the table, grabbed the laptop and went back to his bed to do the searching. Dean cast worried eyes after him, but said nothing and gathered his father's journal to settle in for some reading.

The night passed quickly, with neither brother falling asleep again and by the time morning broke no information had been found. Dean stretched and tossed the book aside. He ran a hand down over his face and turned to where Sam was diligently typing on the keypad.

"Find anything, Sammy?"

"Not really, you?"

"Nope, dad didn't mention anything about it in his journal."

"I _did_ find something about a demon with psychic abilities though. A Saenu demon. It says that it's an extinct species though." Sam replied, checking a hand written note next to him.

"If that thing was a Saenu, then it's alive and living. It sure didn't _look_ extinct." Dean replied.

"I don't think it _is_ a Saenu. I mean it has _some_ elements of a Saenu, but, it didn't say anything about shape shifting on the website." Sam replied.

"Then you think it's a subtype of the species?"

"I don't know _what_ it is, Dean."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dean pushed himself to stand and stretched out the many kinks and cramps that had lodged themselves in his muscles. He yawned and shook his head to clear the fog that drifted there.

"I _do_, however know that I'm hungry. How about you?" Dean questioned.

Sam nodded simply. "Yeah, a bit."

"Then I say we go hunting for something _other_ than demons. Surely there's a good restaurant _somewhere_ in this town." Dean replied with a smile.

Sam closed the laptop and got to his feet to follow Dean, who had already made his way out to the parking lot and into the Impala. The eldest brother was now waiting anxiously for the younger to get a move on. Something that Sam gladly did and pulled the passenger door open to duck inside.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, Dean pulled into a sparsely populated parking lot outside a rundown diner that looked in dire need of a paint job. The windows were streaky and the paint was peeling away from the doorframe. To add to it, the diner was positioned right in front of a railway that was still in use. A train whistle blew down the line as if to prove that fact to the brothers.

"This is the _best_ you can do?" Sam wondered, looking skeptically at the shabby building.

"It looks like it'd be the best priced and the food might not be half bad." Dean responded, stepping out into the sun that warmly bathed his face.

"If you say so, but if I get food poisoning, I'm so blaming you." Sam smiled teasingly.

"You do that Sammy, but if the food_ is_ good, you owe me an apology." Dean teased back.

"Don't look for one." Sam said simply. His eyes twinkled in good nature.

"I will." Dean ambled casually to the doorway and pulled it open. The hinges squealed in the early morning and all heads turned to see the new comers as the door screamed shut just as loud.

"Uh, hi folks." Dean replied to break the tension that had taken up residence in the air.

"Table for two?" A young man asked, looking bored with his job and anxious to get away.

"Please." Sam said.

"Go find one. There's one there, and there, and a couple over there. I'll be out to get your orders in a minute." The man yawned and crossed the creaking floor to the counter top to pull a notebook from behind the cash register.

Sam and Dean picked the closest table and tried to ignore the stares that flashed in their direction. All eyes watching them blazed with curiosity and refused to turn away.

"Nice day, huh?" Dean questioned. The heads watching them turned away, nobody wishing to answer.

"Friendly lot, aren't they?" Dean stated.

"Not really, but they take some getting used to. Know what you want?" The young man was back.

"Um.." But Dean was cut off by the waiter.

"A word of advice, the coffee here stinks, so I wouldn't recommend it to my dog, if I had one, which I don't. Oh and the cook burns toast, and forgets to cook meat all the way through. The soda is watery and the milk is sour." The man replied.

"Oh, uh, how is he with eggs?" Dean asked.

"They run, or they burn, but his oatmeal is pretty good and the hash browns aren't too bad, if you get them done on the grill. The panned ones are greasy. And his bread and peanut butter is superb. The bagels aren't half bad either, just don't let him toast them." The waiter spoke, but he seemed more interested in the window than the two men pondering over what they wanted to order.

"Hash browns are fine." Sam sighed.

"Grill or pan?"

"Grill, and better give me a slice of whole wheat bread with butter."

"Drink?"

"Water's fine."

"Bottle or tap? The tap water's dirty, so I'd go with bottled."

"Bottle then."

"What about you? You know what you want yet?" The waiter wondered.

"Same as him, only, make my bread a bagel." Dean concluded.

"Plain or sesame seed?"

"Plain."

"Okay, it'll be about an hour if the cook doesn't get off his butt and do his job, but if he does, it'll be about ten minutes. Here's a copy of today's paper and an outdated TV guide for you to read while you wait. Or you can find some way to entertain yourselves." The waiter tossed down the two items and made his way slowly to the back kitchen.

"Of all places, why _this_ one?" Sam asked curiously, fingering the newspaper's corner.

"Money, Sammy, we're on a budget." Dean answered.

"It's Sam, and really what would a few extra bucks be if the food was nutritious and fresh?" The youngest man wondered aloud.

"This was closest?" Dean tried.

Sam rolled his eyes and tugged the paper toward him. He unfolded it and spread it across the unwashed tabletop. His disgusted eyes ignored the table and focused on the newsprint. His gaze stopped when it reached the story about the dead psychic and he scanned the text closely to look for that missing piece that may or may not have been present.

He lifted his eyes from the paper when the door opened again and a woman walked over to the counter to sit on one of the stools with rusted legs and torn seating. A familiar sight from across the diner caught his eye and he recognized the sight as the boy from the paper and the news. The white demon stood next to him, with a twisted hand resting firmly on the boy's shoulder. The young man looked terrified and locked eyes with Sam. Familiar flashes darted through his mind of the murder and the pleas for help from the victim. Powerful pain ripped through his skull and he called out in surprise and brought a hand to his temple.

The dusty blonde boy spoke without Sound, but Sam understood.

_The graveyard in south Serenity. He killed me in my home, without my parents knowing and now I'm laying in the graveyard in south Serenity. You can't save me, but you _can_ save the others whom he has targeted. It's not too late. Save them. Go to the south Serenity graveyard and stop this, you're the only one who can._

Sam's face was flushed with pain now as the diner tilted around him. He blindly struggled to get to his feet. He had to get out; he had to get away from the sight of the boy and the demon. He had to. His head pounded with a sickening thud that made his stomach churn, but he fought for control as he felt a grasp on his arm, helping him to his feet. He looked over and saw the demon holding him and leading him toward the vision of the dead boy. He screamed at it to let go, fought it with all he could and stumbled forward. A table edge caught his stomach sharply, but he still struggled to get away. The grip on his arm was still there, leading him, tugging him.

"Sammy? C'mon, Sammy, let's go." Dean's voice drifted to him, yet the words mingled with the familiar word the dead psychic spoke.

_Help_.

Flashes of the boy with his parents bombarded Sam and he couldn't resist the speed and force at which they rushed to him. He stumbled back and felt his knees give out. He was held up only by Dean's strength. Dean had replaced the demon. The demon now watched him from a few feet away. The flashes of the boy's parents still hit him.

"Is he okay?" A voice greeted Sam's ears.

"Sure, he's fine, he has these fits sometimes. I dropped him on his head when he was a kid; it didn't do him any good. Not that it _would_, but y'know, I was four, I wanted him to quit bugging me, so I dropped him. He's fine, most of the time, but I really have to get him outside." Dean's voice was sincere and concerned as he tugged Sam out into the parking lot where the sun danced gently across their cheeks.

"Sammy? Sammy, talk to me." Dean pleaded.

Sam's eyes were locked on the door to the diner where the blonde boy stood, watching him, not speaking, but sending flashes. The murder, life before realizing the abilities, family, friends, school. Sam was seeing this boy's life flashing before _his_ eyes. The pain in his head escalated to intolerable levels and Sam crumbled in his brother's arms. Dean followed him to the rocky ground, where Sam struggled to free himself from the flashes he was receiving.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"South Serenity graveyard." Sam spat out as the flashes subsided.

"What about it?" Dean asked, helping the youngest to his feet.

"We have to go there." Sam replied.

"You _do_ realize that bad things generally happen in graveyards, right Sammy?" Dean questioned, keeping his eyes locked on Sam's face.

"Yes Dean, I _do_ realize that, but it's the only way to stop it."

"As long as you know." Dean said and folded himself into the driver's seat of the Impala.

"I do." Sam replied.

"Of course you do. Get in." Dean told him.

Sam complied and pulled the passenger door shut a bit harsher than needed and Dean shot him a glare that could slice through the toughest leather. Sam noticed, but didn't acknowledge, his thought process seemed to be elsewhere, but Dean couldn't even begin to fathom _where_. The Impala was started and Dean turned out onto the main drag, which led to South Serenity. Sam remained stormily silent in the passenger seat, locking eyes with the scenery flashing by the window along the way and avoiding Dean's concerned gaze when it was passed at him.

About fifteen minutes of driving later, a sign reading _South Serenity Cemetery _stared blankly out onto the road as the boys drove by. Dean saw the sign and stopped near the entrance. A fresh grave was being dug and a few workers looked a little too warm in the early morning sun. Dean scanned the graveyard and shut the engine off. He made a move to step out onto the cemetery path, but stopped when he saw a look of confusion setting gently on Sam's brow.

"Sammy?" Dean asked curiously, reaching out to lay a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Sam jumped before the eldest man's touch even reached him.

The young man's head whipped around to face the window and the colour drained from his face as he looked out into the cemetery. Sam's eyes began to water with the new pain that was blossoming inside his skull as he stared out into the graveyard, unable to tear his gaze away.

The entire appearance of the cemetery was changed. No longer were the grounds nicely kept, but instead they were overgrown and crowded with trees and old stones that were beginning to crumble away. The crypts that stood in the yard were in shambles, pooled on the earth in uneven piles of rocks and cement and the ground had gaping holes in it.

A dark grey hung thickly over the area, causing fog to tumble amongst the dying stones. Sam's eyes slid over the grounds and over to one of the crypts that still had three walls standing. Outside of the yawning door stood the young psychic whom Sam had been seeing. The boy's blonde hair blew around his heart shaped face in an unseen wind and the blue eyes looked up to the stone. From within the dark depths of the door, a white hand reached to grab the young man by the shoulder and tugged him violently backwards. The man stumbled back and left the ground vacant and browned.

Sam watched the open crypt and felt a cold sensation stagger up his legs and into his chest where he struggled to pull air into his lungs. An insistent humming violated his mind and he couldn't force it away. Pain began shooting from his temples and radiating throughout his entire skull and he squinted his eyes shut against it. In the darkness that fell upon him he saw the desperate face of the young man emerge from the fog and beyond the man the green pricked eyes of the demon stared, not speaking, barely breathing, only watching. Sam tried to force himself away, but it felt as though a hand held him firmly in place. He struggled wildly to escape and his head pounded mercilessly. The blonde boy's lips began to move and speak silent words that only Sam could comprehend.

_He disguises himself as a friend. When he came, I thought he was my friend. He wasn't who I thought he was. My parents saw him come. They invited him in and they let him out, thinking that I knew him so it was okay not to check on me. They heard my footsteps go up to my room and heard my voice tell them goodnight, but it wasn't me. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I was dead._

_Go to my parents, say that you are a friend from school. They'll let you in. Go to my room. There is a photo of me and Kacey next to my computer. Kacey is the one that came to me that night, but the thing that killed me was not him. Go to the study, there should be clues about the demon... _

The voice was cut off with a gasp and Sam saw the pale demon grabbing onto the back of the young man's neck. Blood spilled over the pale fingers and dripped away into the dark fog. The demon's eyes watched through a silent glare that ripped through Sam's head. The youngest Winchester felt as though he were being violently and brutally murdered. Murdered in the same way Jonathan was. Sam felt his heart stagger uncertainly in his chest and felt his lungs heave a final breath before falling still. He was trapped in the fog, and the demon watched, while Jonathan drew in shallow breaths beneath his touch. Sam couldn't help him.

_The bookcase...fourth shelf, half way down. Handle._

The light that lingered in Jonathan's eyes died and the boy's face shimmered away, leaving only Sam and the demon, locked in a glare that was difficult to break. Sam's lungs struggled to fill again and his heart tried desperately to thump once more. He blinked and all went white.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dean watched in silent horror as Sam's chest rose and fell as though hesitating to keep the younger brother alive. He reached over to touch his fingertips to the other's neck and found a weary pulse beating rapidly against Sam's skin. Dean's heart stuttered in his chest as a sick feeling twisted through his stomach out of concern for the other man.

"Sam!" Dean called, trying desperately to draw the other back to him.

Sam's chest fell still and the pulse died away. Dean's heart thudded wildly against his ribs and he kept his fingers pressed gently against Sam's neck, searching for a pulse that was nowhere to be found. The desperation that he was feeling began to take over, but he would not allow it to. He had to stay focused. With concern in his face, he noted that Sam's lips were beginning to take on a blue tinge because no breath entered the man's body.

"Breathe, Sammy!" Dean called. No response came.

Without thinking of anything, but saving his baby brother, Dean hit the lever on the passenger seat and laid it flat. He then went about climbing on top of Sam to begin CPR to resuscitate his still brother. He breathed for Sam and hoped that it was enough. Dean fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone, cursing when he didn't find it right away.

Beneath him, Sam gasped and drew in a shuddering breath. Dean leaned forward to gaze into Sam's face and watched the tired eyes slowly slide open. The younger's eyes widened when he realized the situation.

"Dean, get off me, people are going to get curious." Sam said, his voice was scratchy, but strong and with a flush in his cheeks, Dean quickly moved off of Sam and settled into the driver's seat.

"What are you doing? You scared the hell out of me, Sam!" Dean replied quickly. His voice was strong, but frightened.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter." Sam said in exasperation.

"You've gotta learn how to control those things, Sam. They're going to kill you." Dean muttered in worry.

"I try, but I can't. I see Jonathan and I lose total control. That demon, it's always there, whenever I get those flashes, the demon is there."

"Always?"

"Always."

Dean was tense, but hid the relief he was feeling knowing that Sam was all right for the time being. The blue had left his brother's lips and now the colour had returned to his face as well. He kept his eyes on Sam, waiting to see if he would say something else to help him out, but nothing came. Dean sighed, if he wanted to know what was happening he'd have to ask himself. He took a deep breath.

"Sam, what do _you_ think is going on? Clearly you're communicating with this dead kid, but why? Why would he pick _you_ of all the psychics out there?" Dean questioned.

"From what I can tell, it's because I was closest. Dean, he wants us to stop the thing that killed him from doing it again."

"We don't even know where it is, Sam! We don't know _what_ it is!"

"I think I know something that might help us."

"I could call dad, but there's no telling if he'd get back to us. I could try to get in touch with some of dad's contacts, but how do we know that _they_ would know how to help us any better than we already are, which isn't much." Dean replied, not hearing Sam's previous words.

"Dean, I know something that can help us." Sam replied again.

"I'm going to call dad. He might know something, and if not I'll try to get in touch with Missouri. She's a psychic, maybe she knows what's going on with you." Dean reached into his pocket for his phone, but Sam grabbed his wrist.

"Dean, listen to me. I know something that can help us." Sam replied, locking eyes with his big brother.

"You do?" Dean questioned, clearly confused.

"Yes. Jonathan told me something in the vision. We have to go to his house. In the study, on the fourth shelf, halfway down, there's a handle?" Sam asked himself, trying to figure out if he had the facts straight or crooked.

"First we had to come _here_, now we have to go to his _house_? You and your little psychic buddy better make up your minds." Dean replied.

"We have to go to his house."

"Okay, where is it?" Dean asked.

Sam was silent, but a strange feeling told him the place was up ahead.

"Go straight up this road, when you reach the end, turn left and then take that road to Jackson's crossing and turn right. The house is the third on the left. It's a big two-floored grey, brick house. There'll be a red truck in the driveway." Sam replied.

Dean's face blanked.

"How do you know?" He asked. Sam shrugged, but Dean listened and followed the directions.

The third house on Jackson's crossing was indeed grey and brick with a red truck in the yard, yet there were a number of other vehicles there as well. Dean cast his eyes to Sam.

"Dude, that's seriously creepy." Dean stated simply and parked the Impala in front of a blue car.

The older brother shut off the engine and climbed out, shutting the door gently behind him. He waited for Sam to come around and then led the way across the street and up the front stairs to ring the doorbell.

There were footsteps from within and a young girl opened the door. She was probably thirteen or fourteen with the same dusty blonde hair as Jonathan and green eyes that were red rimmed from crying.

"Who are you?" She questioned, and her voice shook a bit.

"We're friends of John's." Sam replied sympathetically.

A tear fell on the girl's cheek. "You knew my brother?"

"Yeah, from school." Sam replied.

"What school?" The girl questioned, suspiciously.

"Bronson University." Sam answered automatically. A flash of confusion flitted across Dean's face, but he kept his composure.

"Come on in then." The girl replied and opened the door.

"Who's at the door, Kaylee?" A woman's voice asked.

"A couple of John's friends from Bronson." The girl answered.

An older woman in what looked to be her forties gave the boys a genuine smile and came toward them. Dean was surprised when the woman pulled him into a gentle hug, but returned it nonetheless.

"Thanks for coming." The woman said softly.

"You're welcome." Dean answered when she pulled away from him.

The woman pulled Sam close to her, and Sam seemed perfectly comfortable with it. He returned the hug and said nothing. The older woman pulled away, but held Sam firmly by the shoulders as she stared into his eyes.

"You seem so familiar, did John bring you here before? On one of his vacations, maybe?"

"No ma'am, he didn't." Sam answered politely.

Dean watched the exchange between the two people with mounting curiosity and confusion.

"What are your names?" Kaylee asked, quietly.

Sam's attention turned to the girl. "Michael, and that's Jacob." Sam replied almost instantly.

Dean smiled tightly and nodded his head.

"I'm Kathleen. Come on in boys. The living room's through here. There are snacks on the coffee table. We've been brought enough food to last us months, but I don't really feel like eating right now." The older woman replied.

"Thank you." Sam said quietly.

"Were you good friends with my son?" Kathleen questioned as they settled on the couch.

"Yeah, we were." Dean replied. Sam nodded in agreement.

"He talked a lot about you and the rest of the family. He was pretty protective of Kaylee, huh?" Sam questioned softly.

Kathleen nodded and tears slid down her cheeks. "He sure was. I don't know what she'll do without him, they were close."

"She'll manage." Dean assured the mother.

"Yes, she will, but it'll take time for her to heal. For all of us to heal." The mother broke down into sobs and Sam pulled her against him, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. She didn't resist.

Dean shot Sam a _"What the hell are you doing?" _sort of glance, but Sam only watched his big brother through silent, stony eyes. Dean's brow wrinkled in confusion and he grabbed a sandwich from a nearby plate to chew on it in puzzlement.

Kathleen pulled away. "Thank you. I swear you seem so familiar. You're sure we've never met?"

"Positive." Sam finalized.

Kathleen shrugged and rubbed her palm across her eyes. The Winchester brothers watched her carefully.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to see to the family in the kitchen. We've got a full house. You can go up to his room if you like. His other friends have. It's the second door on the right after you go up the stairs." The boy's mother smiled softly and then left the living room, where a few other family members mingled about.

Dean hit Sam lightly on the shoulder. "What the hell? Sam, what's wrong with you, man?"

"Nothing's wrong with me Dean. I just thought his mother could use some support. She's lost her only son, show some compassion." Sam replied sharply.

"How do you know she doesn't have another boy around here somewhere? You don't even _know_ this family." Dean replied.

"I feel like I do." Sam said and got to his feet. He made his way to the stairs and carefully mounted them. A confused Dean followed close behind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Beneath the two men, the stairs groaned at them. Sam was the first to mount the landing and made his way to the room identified as John's by Kathleen. Dean stepped in behind Sam and cast his eyes around the room. It was a typical college boy's room, hardly used and unchanged from high school. The only items that looked semi-new were the laptop sitting on the desk, and a glossy photo in a frame that sat next to it.

Dean watched Sam go to the desk and gather the photo in his hands. The frame was black plastic with smoothed edges and corners. The two people in the photo smiled back at the Winchester brothers. One was John, the other was about the same age with grey eyes and dark hair.

"Kacey." Sam whispered.

"Who?" Dean questioned.

"Kacey. He's the one that the demon was disguised as." Sam replied.

"Him?" Dean questioned, pointing to the dark-haired man in the picture for confirmation.

"Yeah."

Sam replaced the photo and led the way out of the room and down the hall to where the study stood nestled in the far corner away from the main bedrooms. The crime scene had been cleared up and everything was more or less back in order. Sam stepped beyond the door and made his way directly to the bookcase that was against the wall behind the desk. He pulled the chair up and stepped onto the seat so he could easily reach the fourth shelf.

Halfway down it, he began fingering the underside of the shelving for something that Dean wasn't sure about. Apparently he found it though, because there was a satisfied smile that sprung to the younger man's lips as he gently pulled the bottom of the shelf half off to allow a thin notebook to fall gracefully into his hands. He grabbed the coiled binding tightly, replaced the drawer and hopped off of the chair, dusting away his footprints when he landed.

"What's that?" Dean asked, eyeing the book suspiciously.

"I think it's the answer to identifying this demon." Sam replied and sat the book down on the desktop. He pulled back the front cover, and quickly scribbled handwriting greeted them, along with crude diagrams of the demon that Sam had been seeing.

"How come he has all this information on this demon thing?" Dean questioned.

"He'd been communicating with it in his dreams. He was trying to find out everything about it because the communication felt suspicious. It was like the demon was plotting against him, which apparently it was." Sam answered without looking up.

"Your psychic instincts tell ya that too?" Dean asked curiously.

"No. Well, yes, but its here in the book. Take a look." Sam smiled and slid the book to Dean.

Dean shot Sam a teasing glance, and then turned his attention to the pages. Sure enough, as Sam had said, there were statistics about the demon and the abilities that it possessed. The diagrams semi-depicted what Dean had seen the previous night in the window of the motel, right down to the green pinpoint in the centre of the pale eyes.

No name was given, but the demon was described as being Saenu-like because of the possession of psychic abilities and control over those whom it wished. Other than that, however, the species wasn't named. The book described it as _'new,'_ possibly a _'hybrid'_ of two or more demons. How that would work, Dean hadn't the foggiest idea, but at the moment it was a possibility that he wasn't willing to discard.

Dean thumbed through the rest of the book and found nothing else, besides a few blank pages, so he tore the pages with the writing on them out, folded them, and settled them in his jacket pocket. Sam didn't object. He merely re-closed the book, making sure that all loose papers were removed and replaced the notebook in the drawer, which he closed soundlessly and stepped down onto the floor again.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded and followed the older man out of the study and into the upstairs hallway. From there, they crossed the hardwood floor to the stairwell and quietly made their way back to the main floor where Kathleen was waiting for them. She smiled softly and held up two mugs of coffee. The brother's accepted them with sincere thanks.

"Come into the kitchen. Another of John's friends is in there and I'm sure you'd like to meet him." Kathleen replied and made her way into the mentioned room. Sam and Dean followed, holding the steaming mugs in their hands.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was decidedly less depressing than that of the upstairs rooms or the living room. Groups of people were gathered in different sections of the large room laughing and joking, yet the pain still showed in their eyes. They were merely pushing it aside for the sake of the family. Dean's tense mood was slightly lifted by the positive emotions in the air and he sipped at his coffee in a satisfied manner.

Near the centre island, Kaylee was laughing at something a young, dark-haired man had said. The man took her glass, went to the water tap, refilled it and came back to her. He was turned back-to the Winchesters. They could not see his face.

"Kacey!" Kathleen replied with a smile. The faces of the brothers blanked and they cast each other a silent glance.

The dark-haired man turned at his name and his grey eyes swept the kitchen for the voice.

"Mrs. Dayton, what can I do for ya?" The man questioned. His voice was silkily smooth, yet it sounded as though it hid a secret so vast that it had the potential to change the world, and he was the only one who knew that secret.

"Come meet a couple of John's friends. Well, maybe you've already met, I wouldn't know. This is Michael and Jacob." Kathleen replied with a gentle smile.

The young man, identified as Kacey, came over to them with a sly smile resting on his lips. He locked eyes with Sam, then Dean, and held his hand out in greeting, first to Dean.

"Kacey Hunt. I think I may have seen you two around with John a couple of times at school." The young man replied with that unpredictable tone.

"Likely, yeah." Dean replied and shook hands with Kacey. The older brother's face switched from calm to tense as the handshake continued. Dean was the first to break it off with a startled glint in his eyes.

From next to Dean, Sam wavered a bit and winced. The coffee cup in the younger man's hand trembled. Kacey took Sam's hand into his own and shook it kindly, but harshly. The youngest brother's face paled to almost a shade darker than crisp white and lines of discomfort etched their way into his forehead and around his eyes.

The mug fell from Sam's hand and shattered on the floor, sending the coffee spilling across the white linoleum. Sam brought the now empty hand up to paw at his forehead as groundbreaking pain exploded from within it. He yelled out a bit and hit the floor on his knees. Dean's eyes widened and he grabbed the younger man with protective hands.

A smile rested on Kacey's lips as he locked eyes with Sam, but the smile was soon replaced by a look of disguising shock, when guests began to gather around the fallen man. Still, Kacey's eyes glittered threateningly.

"Michael? Are you okay?" Kacey questioned to cover for himself. He reached out and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder before Dean could stop it and Sam yelled out again.

Dean shoved Kacey's hand away and held Sam tightly as the man began to convulse. The man who was supposed to have been John's friend's eyes paled, and a green speck shone in them, but the only person that seemed to notice was Dean. Kacey's eyes almost immediately returned to their natural grey and his face still looked shocked.

There were noises around them, but Dean wasn't paying attention to what they were saying. He held his shaking brother close against him as much to protect him from the demon as to protect him from harming himself as he trembled violently. Sam's face was clouded with a look of clear pain and his eyes watered with unshed tears.

Kacey cast a glance to Dean.

"North Serenity nature park." Then Kacey glanced back at Sam, glared and got to his feet.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Kacey replied to those in the area.

A man pushed his way through the crowd and dropped next to Sam. Dean attempted to push him away, afraid for his little brother's safety, but the man held up his hands.

"Let me help, I'm a doctor." The man replied. Dean reluctantly nodded, but refused to leave Sam's side.

"Is he epileptic?" The doctor asked Dean.

"No." Dean answered quickly.

"Kacey, call an ambulance." The man replied, calmly.

Kacey nodded and accepted a phone that was being offered to him. He quickly dialed the number and went about the call as though he were truly a concerned by-stander. Dean didn't miss the glint in Kacey's eyes though, a glint that was clearly not human. Sam went limp in Dean's protective hold and the man that had identified himself as a doctor, checked for a pulse.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The white walls of the hospital were unsettling and Dean wasn't afraid to show his extreme distaste for the place, although he did find it helpful to eye a few of the impressive female nurses and doctors. He slumped further down into his seat and leaned his weary head against the cold wall behind him. He was worried for Sam, despite the fact that he had seemed all right upon bringing him in.

Dean closed his eyes and lost himself in his thoughts and feelings. Back at John's house things had gone from looking up to a sharp, downward spiral with the introduction of Kacey. Dean could still hear the coffee cup shatter against the floor as it fell from Sam's trembling hand. He could see Kacey's eyes shift to that horrible pale tone, dotted with green and he could hear the man's voice chiming clearly in his head. _"North Serenity Nature Park."_

Sam had fallen limp in Dean's grasp and for a split second, the older brother's world come crashing down on him. He had felt his heart shatter and his thoughts blended wildly in his mind. His stomach had jumped into his throat and twisted in a way that could only be described as nauseating while he held his still brother. The man who had identified himself as a doctor had checked Sam's pulse and reported that it was strong, albeit a bit quick.

That's when the sirens screamed around the corner of Jackson's crossing and made their way toward the Dayton house. Sam's eyes had fluttered open and he'd looked curiously around at the people gathered above him. He hadn't spoken, but he'd locked eyes with Dean and the older brother had seen the reflection of gratefulness at his presence. Dean had only smiled and pulled Sam closer. The younger man hadn't objected.

"What h..." Sam had started, but then the realization dawned on him and his eyes widened. He shot to sit, but was forced back down by the man claiming to be a doctor.

"Take it easy, Michael. You had a seizure, the ambulance just arrived." The man had replied and sure enough the front door of the house had been opened and Kathleen's voice could be heard directing the paramedics to where Sam was.

Two women and a man had come through the kitchen door, shoved through the gathered crowd and dropped next to Sam to begin checking him over. Dean had been gently pushed out of the way, but Sam had kept a firm hold on Dean's hand to be sure that he was there. Dean sat in stunned silence, holding Sam's hand and waiting for the verdict from the paramedics. They had decided that it'd be best to take Sam to the hospital for an in depth examination, which included x-rays and CAT scans. Sam had resisted, but the paramedics had won in the end and Dean had followed the ambulance to the hospital in his Impala.

"Jacob?" A woman's voice, soft and caring pulled him from his half-awake state and he was staring into the eyes of Kathleen.

"Mrs. Dayton." Dean replied curtly. The woman smiled.

"How is he?" She asked. Her words were concerned. Dean smiled, thankful for the support.

"As far as they can tell, he's fine. They're going over the results of his CAT scan now, just to finalize that there's nothing funky going on in there." Dean waved his hands near his head for emphasis and Kathleen nodded in understanding.

The doors to the room in which Sam was being kept banged open and Dean quickly sat up straight as a young, dark-haired doctor came toward him. She was flipping through a chart, presumably Sam's and her eyes looked a bit confused.

"Doctor?" Dean questioned, standing up. Kathleen watched the woman expectantly.

"Jacob Lent?" The woman asked.

Dean nodded and the doctor smiled tightly.

"There's nothing wrong with him. He's in perfect health." The woman replied. She turned to Kathleen.

"Are you his mother?" She questioned. Kathleen's face flushed and she shook her head, fighting back the fresh tears that washed through her eyes from the recent death of her son.

"No, a friend." Kathleen replied with a slightly shaking voice.

"Oh, okay. Well, as far as I can tell, he's perfectly fine."

"Well then, what caused his seizure?" Kathleen questioned.

The doctor shrugged. "I'm not sure. There's nothing that could have caused it showing up on the slides."

Sam ambled out of the room then, fully dressed and looking as perky as ever. He smiled at the doctor, who returned the expression.

"Can I go?" Sam questioned.

"I'd like to keep you here for observation, just incase." The doctor replied.

"I feel perfectly fine." Sam said simply.

"You may _feel_ fine, but something clearly _isn't_ quite up to par." The doctor replied.

Sam shifted in place. "Please, let me out of here. I'm okay. If it happens again, I'll be back, but I don't see the purpose of me staying here."

Sam turned on his wordless charm and silently pleaded with the doctor, who seemed unable to resist. She sighed and nodded. "Fine. You can leave."

"Thank you." The young Winchester replied and went over to join his brother.

"Do you _really_ feel fine, Michael?" Kathleen asked, concern in her eyes.

"Yes ma'am, I do." Sam smiled.

"Ready?" Dean asked, knowing that he had to talk to Sam about what had happened. His eyes told his younger brother that and Sam nodded.

"Yeah."

"Then let's get going." Dean replied. He turned to Kathleen. "Thanks for coming Mrs. Dayton." Dean said with a smile.

"Of course, thank you for showing up to give your respects. It's appreciated." Mrs. Dayton replied.

"It's the least we could do. Sorry for your loss." Sam replied.

Kathleen nodded and pulled Sam into a hug, then she did the same to Dean, who's face screwed into one of surprise that this woman, whom he hardly knew, would hug him _twice_ in the same day. He quickly wiped the shock from his face when the woman released him.

"The funeral is tomorrow at two, if you're coming. He's being cremated and his ashes are going to be put in the base of his stone in the South Serenity Cemetery." Kathleen replied.

"We'll keep that in mind, but I don't know if we'll make it. We'll try to." Sam replied.

Kathleen nodded and touched each man's shoulder before passing him by and leaving the hospital. The doctor cast Sam a stern look.

"If you feel even the _slightest_ bit off, you come back here, got that?" The woman asked.

"Of course." Sam smiled softly.

The doctor nodded and turned away. Her heels clicked against the floor as she made her way down the hall and into the next room.

Sam turned to face Dean, and an alarmed expression sat on his face.

"I have to talk to you." Sam replied quickly.

"Likewise, but let's get out of the public eye before pouring out our deep dark feelings for each other, m'kay?" Dean asked with a teasing smile.

Sam glared, but followed his older brother into the parking lot, where the sun struck them in the face.

"I'm next." Sam replied when they were safely behind the closed doors of the Impala.

"What do you mean _you're next_?" Dean questioned; his voice was thick with worry.

"The demon is coming for me next, and he'll kill you too, just because you're in the way." Sam said.

"What? Why would he come for _you_?"

"I know his identity, and now, so do you. We're a potential danger to him, he wants us out of the picture."

"Sammy, we can't leave this alone. He'll keep killing and you know that. _He's_ the one who has to be cut from the picture." Dean replied.

"I know that, Dean, but I thought it important for you to know that, whether we like it or not, we don't have a choice. We have targets on our backs and he won't stop until he hits a bulls-eye."

Dean was silent.

"North Serenity Nature Park." Dean said.

Sam nodded. "That's where he's waiting for us, but Dean, he _can't_ be killed. He pre-dates modern hunting, the new ways aren't going to work."

"I know that." Dean replied stormily. He put the Impala into gear.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This chapter's shorter, but it's a set up for what's to come! Stick around and I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 10**

The Impala was silent as Dean drove toward the Nature Park. Both men were lost in thought as the ground slithered beneath the tires of the car. Dean was concentrating completely on the road, and Sam's eyes were turned to the window where he was watching the scenery pass by in a blur that should have been slower. Dean had a tendency to speed. In times of crisis, such as this, the rules of the road seemed to slip his mind and he focused on one thing and one thing only. Actually, he focused on two things: killing the thing they were after and making sure Sammy made it through the ordeal alive.

"Modern measures won't work..." Dean was running through possibilities in his head, yet his thoughts were occasionally being voiced aloud.

"No." Sam answered.

"You're certain?"

"I think so." Sam replied.

"You _think_, you don't _know_?"

"Not for sure, but there's a good chance that I'm right."

"Getting a bit cocky, aren't ya, Sammy?" Dean asked, his eyes were still locked on the road and didn't turn to Sam.

Sam didn't answer. He didn't know how to respond to that. No, he wasn't _certain_ that modern measures wouldn't work, but everything he'd learned from his visions told him not to count on killing it. Nobody attempting to do so had ever survived. That meant that the demon _may_ have been able to be killed by the measures that he and Dean were used to, but there was still the ever-looming threat that both of them would end up like all those before them who had tried to do away with it and failed. Dead.

"Lemme see the papers, Dean." Sam requested. He'd read them before, but he wanted to be sure he wasn't missing something.

Distractedly, Dean plunged his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the crumpled sheets of notebook paper that he'd torn from the book at the Dayton house. He handed then to Sam, who accepted them with a curt 'thanks' and unfolded them to read. Silence descended upon the interior of the Impala once again as Sam read the notes. Dean kept his eyes on the sunlit road.

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to settle over the town of Serenity and Dean wondered all at once where the daylight had gone. Then he remembered. He'd spent the vast majority of it in the hospital waiting for news on his baby brother, whom he cared so deeply for. That's where the light had gone, it'd slipped through his fingers without him even noticing, or really caring. His concern had lain with Sam. Now, the evening lights danced gracefully through the clouds and sent gentle glares against Dean's face. He quickly pulled the sun visor down and kept driving.

The sign for the Nature Park was not more than twenty feet in front of him and he looked for the road that would take him there. He found it, nestled in the trees, snuggled against the earth that sunbathed in the early evening light falling over them. The sky was turning dark, but there was still enough day to illuminate the way to where they had to go. Dean took the turnoff and settled the Impala into a parking space next to the green velvet of a freshly mowed lawn that hugged the edge of a dense forest. Dean could sense the many animals watching him, but none of them were what the brothers were hunting. No, the thing they were hunting was hidden in the deepest shadows that raided the forest and rampaged over the dimly lit earth.

Dean shut off the engine and the silence dove in to claim him once more. A deeper, darker silence than what had been invading the Impala previously. _This_ silence held secrets that should never be told, it protected one of the many forms that evil took while walking amongst people. It was absolutely shattering and every nerve ending in Dean's body told him that whatever was waiting for them along that trail was nothing, but bad news.

He turned to Sam, who was apprehensively gazing beyond the glass and into the parking lot. His face was grim, and lines of tension stretched around his eyes and mouth. He held the papers in steady hands and the hastily drawn sketch of the demon stared up at him through the eyes that proved evil existed. The eyes that drilled into his soul and ripped savagely at his consciousness. The eyes of the demon that aimed at invisible targets on the backs of the Winchester brothers. The demon definitely wasn't something to look forward to, but he already knew that. He and Dean _both_ knew that and nothing was going to change it.

"Find anything useful in those notes?" Dean asked finally. The words broke the silence that surrounded them into a million pieces too small for the human eye to see.

"It's a type of Saenu, but we already suspected that. However, it seems to be advanced. It can control or take the form of someone so that it can walk among the humans as convincingly as you or I are able to do. Also, it says here that it might possibly have the power to bend time, or use the black arts. It can summon the dead, Dean. It can summon the dead in spirit form to do its bidding." Sam replied, motioning to the papers he held. His words were hollow and his voice was coolly composed. Then again, why shouldn't it be? They fought evil everyday. They knew that the supernatural existed, it wasn't anything they hadn't seen before.

Actually, it _was._ They'd never seen this type of demon in their travels. Never had they encountered something able to do all that Sam had said. Saenu demons were supposed to be extinct. Clearly, one still walked and this one was more powerful than any that came before it. The hands that held the notes tightened their grip and the knuckles turned white with the force being exerted. Dean watched his brother's hands through eyes that held a world of guilt, anger and worry swirling deep within them. Sam swallowed, determined to do what had to be done without sacrificing himself, _or_ his big brother. This thing might not be able to be defeated by modern means, but surely an old ancient weakness will stand true. Hopefully.

"Do we have any iron in the back? A pipe, a paperweight, _anything_?" Sam asked.

It has been known for centuries that many demons are weakened by iron. Sam hoped that this was one of those species. Dean nodded, but said nothing and got out of the car. Sam followed and walked around back to meet the older man. He watched as Dean opened the trunk and reached in.

"Tire iron." Dean said, and then he lifted the floor of the trunk to reveal the very colourful collection of weaponry that they stocked up on. He pulled a few things from their places and divided them up between he and Sam.

Salt, herbs, holy water, anything that would come in handy when fighting this thing. Sam filled his pockets and grabbed an iron bar that happened to be in stock. They were ready. They were as ready as they would ever be. It was now, or never. The brothers decided that now was the best way to go. Dean slammed the trunk into place and turned his intense gaze on Sam. The late daylight silhouetted the younger man and drifted against Dean's face.

"Ready?" He questioned. Sam nodded.

"Ready."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Just past the tree line, a shadow moved. It flitted and swayed amongst the edging darkness that was sliding slowly over the ground. The Winchester brothers turned their eyes to gaze upon it. It vanished, leaving the two men staring at nothing.

"It's here." Dean finalized. He could sense it and he knew that Sam could as well.

A shifty breeze slithered across the faces of the young hunters and slowly they stepped onto the beaten path that sliced through the thickness of the woodlands. It was too quiet. Not even a distant bird screamed to break the taunting silence of the night. The trees were still, even _with_ the breeze that lightly tousled their canopies. The fading sunlight retreated down the road that stretched in front of them as though it were slowly being sucked into the approaching black that accompanied the night, drifting in to quilt them in shadows.

Dean scanned the forest with sharp eyes that could seek out and discover even the _slightest_ abnormality should it be present. He searched the deepest corners of the slowly darkening land and held the iron bar he had at the ready. The demon didn't show. Of course it didn't, it wasn't going to come to them. It was waiting for them to go to _it_, then it would strike, whether the boys were ready for it or not.

They'd be ready. At least they _hoped_ they would be.

A small gasp whispered its way past Sam's lips and Dean turned at the sudden sound. In the fading light that was nearly extinct, the older man could see a look of blank confusion resting on Sam's features. He stopped, because he knew what was coming. Sure enough, a split second later, Sam's hands flew to his temples and he began rubbing ferociously to push back the intense throbbing that had taken place. The younger brother's knees went weak and he sunk to the ground. Dean followed him and held the young man tightly against him to provide comfort. Sam whimpered through the pain and tears fell against his chalky white cheeks. His whimpering grew to near screaming when the pain threatened to consume him. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and his face drained of colour. Dean watched his brother's battle with concerned eyes because the only escape he could provide Sam with was exactly what he was doing at the present moment.

"Shhh, it's okay Sammy, I'm here. You're safe." Dean murmured into Sam's ear.

The blank, agonized look was still washed ever so gently across the young man's face, and all at once the tension fled his body and Sam slumped into Dean's arms, barely conscious. Dean kept a calm façade and merely ran a gentle hand through Sam's hair, brushing it away from the pale forehead beneath.

"C'mon little brother, naptime's over. We've got some serious demon ass to kick, remember?" Dean questioned, ceasing his previous actions to tap his hand lightly against Sam's cheek.

He was rewarded with a lazy shift in movement from Sam and the young man focused on his older brother's face. Dean smiled gently at him.

"You okay?" Was the question that brushed past Sam's ears.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"What'd you see?" Dean questioned.

"I dunno, it was dark and there were only flashes. But…" Sam replied.

Dean listened further to see if the other was going to speak again. Sam took a shaking breath and his eyes gazed blankly into the surrounding woodlands that were now dark with the young night. Dean watched silently, not masking the concern that he felt. Slowly, Sam pushed himself to stand and began to walk into the left-hand forest. A confused Dean stood.

"Hey, Sammy, where ya goin'?" Dean called, tightening his grasp on the iron pipe he held.

"There's something here." Sam stated and stepped into the trees.

Split seconds later, there was a startled gasp from the younger man's direction and a breathy voice called.

"Dean!"

"Sammy? Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked instantly and crashed through after his brother. He stopped short of running into Sam's back and focused his eyes on the flashlight beam pointed into the trees.

"Oh shit." Dean spoke quietly.

A shape in the trees blocked the light and two grey coloured eyes stared blankly back at them. The still body of Kacey Hunt was tied amongst crisscrossed barbed wire fencing that sliced deep cuts into the pale skin of the helpless human. Sam walked forward to lay his fingertips gently against the man's neck in search of a pulse. His fingers searched wildly and his eyes widened when he turned back to Dean.

"He's still _alive_." Sam replied sharply.

As if to finalize the point, Kacey took a strangled gasp that was barely loud enough to penetrate the silence surrounding them. The grey eyes blinked very slowly, hardly any movement at all, and the young man licked his bloodied lips.

"Help." Kacey replied quietly.

Sam's hands flew to his head as flashes began coming at him from all directions. Dean stopped and grabbed Sam firmly by either shoulder in an attempt to ground the younger man with the reassurance that he was there, with him, protecting him. Sam shook his head blindly and through stuttering breaths said: "I'll be…fine. J-just get Kacey down…Now!"

Dean gently lowered Sam to the ground before the vision did and turned back to Kacey. At his feet, Sam was moaning in pain as tears gathered in his eyes to fall gently on his cheeks. Dean kept carefully untwisting the wire from Kacey's wrists, throat, and legs. He pulled it away where it crisscrossed over his chest and back. Blood from the cuts covering the young man, stained Dean's hands as he worked, but slowly Kacey was being freed.

Dean's hand slipped on the wire and a sharp barb tore a deep, crimson trail across his palm. He cursed loudly as the wound throbbed, but continued. He finally pulled the last wire away from the man and gently lowered him to the ground next to where Sam was writhing in the agony that was twisting through his skull.

"Sammy?" Dean called softly, after pulling his jacket off and bundling it beneath Kacey's head.

No answer reached his ears. He quickly wrapped his bleeding hand in the material of his tee shirt and hissed at the pain that it sent shuddering through his arm. His vision blurred at the edges and he blinked it away. Past the stained wire, a breath whispered to him and he locked his eyes on it. The demon stood there in the shadows, with a blank, yet dark expression on his face.

Dean grabbed onto the iron pipe and it slid against his battered palm, but didn't drop. Sam yelled out savagely from the ground next to him and Dean quickly turned to see him grimacing under the influence of his headache. Kacey's eyes wandered lazily, failing to remain open for any amount of time. Dean's face was clouded with a mixture of concern and anger, yet determination sat on his lips. He lunged forward, iron in front of him, at the silent demon. The creature yelled out as the iron brushed lightly against his side and Dean rolled to his feet.

The demon fell silent once more and locked an unmoving gaze on Dean's eyes. The young man couldn't move. He struggled against the power and the demon could see the fight flickering across the man's face. He continued to silently stare in Dean's direction and watched the man call out.

Dean's wound cried to him with a pain that was so intense it made him yell. He could feel something washing through his veins and slowly poisoning him. His vision blurred again and bright lights started flashing around him. His knees gave out and he hit the ground, the pipe fell from his grasp and clattered soundlessly against the earth. He pitched forward; his hands barely caught him as he fell flat, the world spinning wildly around him.

The demon kneeled to look into the young man's face, and a dark expression crawled slowly across the pale, pricked eyes of the creature. Dean yelled out as the pain enveloped him and the sight of the demon slowly faded from existence and into a dark grey that soon turned to black as Dean's face slacked.

The demon stood and cast his eyes to where the other brother yelled out in the pain that he was causing. A small shock of pleasure sliced through the demon and a cracked smiled crept sickeningly to his lips. He walked over and kneeled between Kacey and Sam, laying a hand on each. Sam cried out again and Kacey tensed up with a short, pained yelp and then fell still.

This was it, Sam was the final piece and now he had him within his grasps. The other two men were casualties, or they would be soon. Kacey's breath was already starting to slow, and Dean's chest heaved in an attempt to keep him alive.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I thought it was horrible of me to leave you all with the ending in that last chapter, so I wrote this one up right after so I could get it posted. Enjoy and expect the next chapter tomorrow!**

**Chapter 12**

His methods were crude, but they worked. He watched his craftsmanship invade Dean and Kacey and turned to where Sam lay, now unmoving, but still in pain. He hadn't needed _Sam_ in particular; one like him would have sufficed. However, the last one like Sam that he'd killed had somehow managed to reach the young man that lay at his feet.

That was all good and well, for it had made his mission simpler. He'd searched Sam when Jonathan had first made contact, and he had liked what he'd seen. He _knew_ Sam would come when the first incident of communication took place. He knew it, because that was the type of human that Sam was. It had helped that the older one had stopped in Serenity. Jonathan had started the job; all _he'd _had to do was complete it. He'd summoned the psychic's spirit back from the land of the dead to lure Sam to him. He'd used Sam's goodness against him.

He had forced the contact between the two psychics and although Jonathan had presented him with some fight, he'd always been able to take the young man's trapped consciousness down and worm his way into Sam's mind. He'd always been in control. Mostly, yet when the dead boy had told Sam about the research, the dead one had been in complete control. The demon hadn't wanted that information to slip into the hands of the Winchesters, but it had and there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

It didn't really matter, though, because Jonathan hadn't found a way to defeat him, he'd only been gathering information. The young psychic had had a vision about him, after he'd first been pulled from the fiery depths from whence he came by a group of amateur mediums. The psychic had had a dream about it and had started researching him the very next day, but no method of defeat had been found.

The silent demon smiled through dry, cracked lips at the thought and hauled the young Winchester psychic to his feet. The boy didn't protest, but he tried to fight, the iron almost immediately slipping from his trembling hands. He dug his nails into the back of the young man and drew blood that seeped through the shirt and jacket the man had on. The struggling brother quickly fell still and lapsed into unconsciousness. The demon let him fall to the ground and then proceeded to drag him by the collar of his coat to where he wanted to go.

If all went well, the demon would reach his full potential by sunrise. Then he could proceed in summoning the most powerful demons on his plain of existence. However, to do that, he had to kill the Winchester boy and absorb his power. He had no compassion for humans. Generations of hunters, such as the brothers had killed off his kind one by one. He was the only one left and he wanted nothing less than to kill. He fed off of the hatred and anger toward his kind. He fed off of the determination to kill demons, and with each feeding, he grew stronger and could kill more. He wanted total destruction of the human race, and he was going to be the one to bring that to fall upon the people of the world. He was going to be the one, and he felt no resentment toward it. He didn't even know the meaning of the word. He cast his pale eyes back to the two men gasping their last breaths on the ground and smiled. The destruction started here, tonight and it would continue until there was nothing left.

He pulled Sam through the slicing underbrush toward South Serenity Graveyard, where his game would begin. He'd wanted the brothers at the Nature Park for the sake of isolation. Nobody wandered there after dark, nobody would hear the older brother scream, or the younger one yell as he weakened him. Sam wouldn't scream in the graveyard. He was too weak, the vision had drained him and that was exactly what the plan had been. He trudged on into the night, the young man being pulled behind him, to weak to even awaken.

* * *

Dean struggled to draw breath. His body shuddered against the cold ground as he slowly clawed his way back to consciousness. He stared upward, into the starry sky, dazzling with thousands of gems glimmering down upon him. He could feel his life betraying him; the bastard had poisoned him. He drug himself over to where Kacey lay, barely breathing and plunged his hand into his jacket pocket to retrieve his cell phone. 

His eyes scanned the stained grounds and he noticed that something huge was missing. The demon had taken Sammy. The thing had captured his baby brother and he couldn't save him. He couldn't even save _himself_. He narrowed his eyes in frustration and hatred for the demon and the demon kind. They existed for nothing more than death, murder, and destruction. He knew that. His father had taught him that when he was just a boy.

His father, how Dean longed to see his father again. He opened the phone with a distant hope that a call he'd made when this demon had first shown itself had been returned. He'd made the call without Sam's awareness, and hadn't mentioned Sam's connection with it, or the visions. He hadn't been expecting to hear back, and looking at his screen, it confirmed it. He had no missed calls, and no messages. He fought the tears that threatened to slide down his helpless cheeks and hit the redial button.

The phone rang and the all-to-well known message greeted Dean's ears.

"_This is John Winchester, if this is an emergency, call my son Dean: 866-907-3235."_ Then the dreaded beep of the message machine toned.

Dean licked his dry lips, took a shuddering breath and began to speak.

"Dad, it's me again." His breath stuttered in his chest and he took a wheezing gasp before continuing.

"I don't expect that you listen to my messages, but…" His voice faltered and he coughed to force air back into his lungs.

"We're in trouble. This demon…it's nothing like we've encountered…before. It's got Sammy…and I can't save him this time. I don't know how much longer I have…it got me, dad. The bastard took down Dean Winchester." Dean yelled out as pain slashed through his body and he pulled the phone from his mouth so his dad wouldn't hear the intensity of it.

He was panting when he brought the phone back into position.

"Incase you care…We're still...in...Serenity, the Nature Park. I'm sorry dad, but I couldn't save him… not this time. The demon took him away from me. I tried. He needs your help...cause I can't help him…as…much as I want to…I…can't... G'bye, dad." Dean replied weakly and struggled to take in breath. He wheezed through painful breath after painful breath. He was coughing and gasping as he hung up.

The phone slipped from his hand as he fell into the darkness that was slowly edging over him.

**A/N: Okay, this chapter was shorter and likely not a much better place to leave you in than the last, but the next chapter will be soon coming. Hang in there and lemme know your thoughts on the matter. Particularly your thoughts on the direction I'm taking the demon and plot and the fact that I've pulled John Winchester into the mix. Until next time!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Here comes John Winchester! Thanks to all of you who are keeping up with this! I appreciate it! Here's the next part, as promised.**

**Chapter 13**

"_The bastard took down Dean Winchester."_ The phone shook in John's hand as he listened to the agonized scream of his oldest son.

"_Incase you care…We're still...in...Serenity, the Nature Park. I'm sorry dad, but I couldn't save him… not this time. The demon took him away from me. I tried. He needs your help...cause I can't help him…as…much as I want to…I…can't. G'bye, dad."_

The sound of Dean's struggle to hold onto life was the last thing he heard before the call ended. His heart pounded in his chest and he ran a hand over his face. He placed the phone aside and a storm cloud of thoughts rushed through his mind. His boys had gotten in too deep this time and they couldn't get out. Dean had called twice now, asking for his help, but he hadn't answered the last time. He thought they could handle it, he'd raised them to be hunters and he thought they were strong enough to beat the thing. He couldn't have been more wrong.

He was twenty minutes away from Serenity if he drove at break-neck speed. He was close on the trail of the thing that had killed Mary, and hadn't planned on any interruptions. The last call from his oldest boy had made up his mind. Dean and Sam were the only family he had left; he couldn't lose _them_ too. He shoved his truck into gear and tore out onto the freeway. He was going to Serenity.

"Hang in there, Dean. We'll get your brother back." John spoke to the son that did not hear him.

Twenty minutes. That's all, just twenty minutes. He prayed that Dean had that long, and he hoped he'd get there in time to save his youngest boy from the demon that had taken him. How dare it separate his sons? His sons were each other's strength, and weakness. Killing one would mean killing a part of the other. He loved his boys and he didn't want either of them to meet an untimely end. Not if he could help it.

* * *

There was a gasping shudder from Kacey and he slowly opened his eyes to look into the dark. He could feel dried blood crusting his entire body and recognized that the majority of his cuts were still bleeding. His heart strained to beat and pump blood through his body. He was cold, and afraid. He rolled his head to the side and in the night he could see the unmoving form of one of the men that had come to help him. He didn't know where the other went, but he could clearly see that the one still there was struggling to breathe.

He tried to move, but his injuries prevented him from doing so and he only groaned at the intense pain striking through him. How long had he been here? He didn't know, but he remembered when he was first tied up, that had to have been earlier that morning. Until then, he didn't really know where he was. He was somewhere, but where? Whatever that thing was, it'd taken him right out of his bed at night. It seriously creeped him out.

The sound of a cell phone ringing pulled Kacey from his thoughts. He looked wearily to the other man on the ground and saw the lighted plate of a phone. He'd heard the man make a call earlier to…his father? Yeah, that was right, it was to his father. The phone kept ringing. The other man didn't answer. He saw the name on the screen and his mouth opened slightly.

"Dad." He mouthed the word that he read and tried without success to gain the attention of the other.

It didn't work and the phone ceased its panicked screaming. The small device lay abandoned on the ground and said nothing further. Kacey sighed shakily and closed his eyes against the pain that fell upon him; he lost his battle with consciousness.

* * *

"Damn it Dean, pick up!" John shouted into the phone as it continued to ring.

There was no answer and with a very colourful curse, he ended the call and tossed the phone to the seat beside him. He stepped on the gas pedal and sped the final distance to Serenity. He belted out a long string of concerned cursing, but kept it silently in his mind and hit his hand against the steering wheel instead. He couldn't lose his boys! Neither of them!

If Dean had been poisoned, he could work around that. A demon's poison was fairly simple, like snake venom. With the proper antidote, it would be cured. However, without the antidote in time, Dean would most definitely die. John drove on.

The sign for Serenity was just out of his line of vision, but he knew he was close. He'd passed through the small town a few days ago. That was before the demon had been summoned, though. He hadn't been back since then, mostly because he hadn't known about it. Had he known, he would've taken the bastard out before it got a hold of his sons.

There it was. The sign that welcomed him to the town was just ahead; the beams from his headlights brushed gently across it and illuminated the letters in a soft glow. He was entering the south end; he had about ten minutes to drive before reaching the Nature Park. Normally that wouldn't have been bad, but with Dean's life in very real danger and Sammy being taken who knows where, time was something that he didn't have a lot of. He pressed the truck to go faster. He had to get to Dean.

He passed the shadowy presence of the South Serenity cemetery and a strange feeling crept over him. There was definitely something evil lurking there, he could sense it. Whatever it was, it was close, nearly upon him. He kept driving. His oldest son needed him as soon as possible.

* * *

Dean shifted as he heard a vehicle pull into the parking lot. Someone was coming. However, he couldn't stay awake long enough to find out who and he slowly slipped back under.

* * *

John turned into the lot of the North Serenity Nature Park and his blood ran cold. His son's Impala sat abandoned next to the forest. He was afraid, but he shouldn't have been. His son's car was a sure sign that the brothers had been there, and were possibly _still_ in the region. He pulled into the space next to it and got out. His feet hit the paved ground with a silent thud and he immediately ran around to the back of his truck where he pulled out his weapon's case. He grabbed anything he could think of to fight a demon, and then pulled a few of the antidotes for poison from another compartment. He looked over the bottles carefully and then shoved all of them into his pockets. Hopefully _one_ of the bottles would be the right one.

He shoved things back into place and took off at a run down the trail. He could smell blood in the air. It was a thick, metallic scent that pulled him toward it. Where there was blood, there was injured. He crashed through the trees, the beam of the flashlight searching in front of him and he stopped short when he saw two forms against the ground. The metallic smell was strong now, very strong and he saw immediately where it was coming from.

The other boy, the one whom John didn't know was a bloody mess that screamed the work of a demon. Either, that or a very, very sick minded person. He was voting for the demon. He checked on the stranger to be sure he was alive, finalized that he _was_ and then moved directly to his unconscious son. He watched Dean's chest anxiously for the rise and fall of life and with a huge sense of relief saw it. Gently, he placed a hand on Dean's cheek and grimaced at the warmth radiating from the pale skin.

"Dean? Son, I'm here." John spoke rather intensely. The boy shifted under the father's touch and glassy eyes opened to gaze blankly up at him. John smiled when he saw his son's eyes, glassy or not, it meant that he was still alive.

"Dad?" Dean's voice was harshly breathless and a raspy whisper, yet John heard it and nodded.

"It's me." He finalized and went about checking Dean's condition.

His face blanked as he realized just how deep the extent of the poison had gone. He'd dealt with demon poisoning before, he himself had been struck by it a time or two. He also knew when it was too late to do anything for the victim. Luckily that wasn't the case with Dean. True enough the poison had nearly taken over his entire body, but there was still a chance for the man to survive. He'd do what he could, but a hospital would have to be pulled into the picture for the final stages.

John recognized this type of poisoning. It was rare, because the demon that caused it was very nearly extinct. For a time, he'd thought they _were _extinct. He'd never met up with one, but an old friend of his from long ago had, maybe it had been the same one. The poison had been quite far advanced when John had found him, about as far as Dean's and he'd had to use the antidote then. It had worked, but it hadn't been pretty, an ambulance had to be called in when the man had taken a particularly bad turn. His friend had lived, but hadn't been able to kill the demon. He'd only banished it back to its plain of existence. That's what John would have to do. It couldn't be killed with any modern measures that _he_ knew of, but it could be banished. He knew the banishing spell and had the necessary components to properly pull it off, he just had to get close enough. To do that, he had to find it.

He went about uncapping a bottle of holy water mixed with herbs and lathered it on the cut that sliced across Dean's palm. The effect was almost immediate. The characteristics of the holy water counteracted the poison and the herbs created a means of fighting it off. Dean shifted on the ground and his vision cleared up slightly. He smiled.

"I didn't think you'd come." The man replied matter-of-factly.

"I came."

"Thank you." Dean stated. His voice was slightly stronger as the antidote began to take effect.

"That boy there, was he poisoned too?" John questioned motioning to the unconscious Kacey.

"Dunno. Don't think so, but you should douse him just incase." Dean said quietly.

"I will." John replied, but didn't move. He watched his boy's face slowly pale as the first of the poison began to back off.

It would be tough for a little while, but eventually the toxin would leave his oldest boy's body. Albeit, Dean wouldn't feel pleasant while it did so. Before the expulsion was over, Dean would have to go to the hospital, and John knew that. Removing the work of an evil one didn't come without consequences, the young man laying next to him would make a trip to hell and back before this was over, but at least he'd gotten to him in time.

John got reluctantly to his feet and kneeled next to the other boy. He brushed a bit of the watery antidote over the cuts on the man's arms and neck. He stood back and watched. Sure enough, the other man shuddered a bit as the poison started to flush from his body.

"I'm going to call and ambulance, okay, son? You're going to need a hospital, just like this young man here." John replied sternly. Yet he knew his son would fight him and he was right.

"Kacey, his name's Kacey… Call the ambulance for him, but I'm going with you…You got the antidote to me in time… right?" Dean questioned.

John was silent, but he nodded.

"Then I'll be fine. I'll go there after I know that Sammy is safe." Dean replied, and winced as he felt further effects of the poison wearing off.

"Dean, I'm not liking this stubbornness. You _know_ what's going to happen to you in order to expel that junk from your system." John said sharply.

"Yes sir, I _do_, but like it or not, I'm going to help get my brother back." Dean replied. He wasn't usually one to stand up to his father. His attitude surprised _him_ a little, but he was still sticking to his promise of making sure Sam was safe.

"Dean, you'll only be a hindrance to me. I want you to go with Kacey to the hospital. I can get your brother." John replied. It stung him that he was being so abrupt with his oldest boy, but he wanted to make sure Dean knew _everything_ that he was thinking in order to understand.

The last time John had been poisoned by a demon, Dean had watched his father suffer through the expulsion process until he could no longer take it. He'd been barely eight and had called Missouri to report what was happening. The older psychic had ordered Dean to call an ambulance for John. She'd asked the boy where he was and said she'd be right there, seeing as she wasn't far away. Sure enough, Missouri had arrived a few moments before the ambulance and had taken a crying, frightened Sam into her arms and checked on John, ordering Dean to get a cold cloth for the fever burning inside the older man. The ambulance had pulled into the yard to take the oldest Winchester to the hospital. Missouri had strapped Dean and Sam into the car and followed the medical vehicle there to wait out the turmoil that she knew came with the expulsion.

"Dad, I'm going with you." Dean finalized. His voice was louder as his strength started to return.

"Dean." John started.

"Dad, I'm going."

"Fine, but I want you to stay out of the fight. You'll be in _no_ shape to battle this thing."

Dean was silent and grabbed his cell phone. He hit the buttons to call 911 and get Kacey some help. John watched him through stormy eyes. Yet, behind the hard exterior John was putting forth, he was proud of his son. For everything.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The sirens of an ambulance wailed in the distance. Dean struggled to sit and his father helped him to stand. John's oldest son was doing fairly well in the expulsion, so far. It was far from over, though; these things lasted hours that often stretched into days. John would know the antidote was taking a full swing at the poison when Dean started showing flu-like symptoms. In fact, to a well-trained doctor, the process would even _look_ like the flu. It would _test_ like the flu and treat the victim with similar discomfort, but it would be worse. It would be much, much worse and often the fever that accompanied the process created a sense of delirium. John hoped that wouldn't happen until _after_ Sammy was safe.

"Let's go, before the paramedics get here and want _me _to go with them." Dean replied simply.

John's oldest son allowed the often-absent-father figure to support him on the way to the truck and help him inside. Dean's eyes drifted to his car.

"Wait. Dad, what about my car? There is a pile of weapons in the back, plus Sammy's laptop. If the crime guys search, they'll pin us for attempted murder." Dean said.

Without hesitation, John handed the keys to his truck over to his son and locked very serious eyes on him.

"You have to drive my truck to the nearest store or motel and wait for me. I'll bring Kacey out here and act as though _I_ called the medics, cause your footprints, Sam's and my own are littering that place, they'll get us for sure. Switch me phones, the emergency call is still on your phone if they ask for proof. The car will look like it belongs to me. Go Dean, and be careful. I'll get there as soon as I'm done here." John replied. He'd thought this through on a whim and he hoped that it would work.

Dean nodded slowly and slid into the driver's seat. A small shudder of pain attacked his muscles and he flinched. John didn't miss it.

"It's started, hasn't it?" He asked.

"Yes sir, I think it has." Dean muttered cautiously.

"Dean, you can do this, just drive. It'll be a little while before it gets bad. You'll be fine to pull this off. Trust me." John assured his son.

Dean asked no questions and started the truck. Before he'd even pulled out onto the road, John had started running back to where Kacey lay. He'd have to do this as soon as possible because the sirens were getting closer. When John arrived, Kacey was just beginning to grope his way back to consciousness. He gently pulled the slumping young man to his feet, and pulled Dean's jacket along with him. It didn't take long to get out to the parking lot, where he lay the young man gently down and replaced Dean's jacket beneath Kacey's dark hair. He shrugged his own off and tossed it into the Impala, opening the door to make it look like he'd gotten out in a hurry.

He ran back to Kacey's side and dropped to his knees. The young man was just opening his eyes when John's face hovered over his. He tried to speak, but John placed a finger to his lips to shush him.

"The paramedics are on their way, Kacey. It won't be long. Try to stay with me, okay?" John asked gently. He looked up as an ambulance screamed into the parking lot and three paramedics got out to rush to the scene.

"What happened?" One of them asked in a clipped tone.

"Sir, can you hear me?" Another called to Kacey, who nodded his head feebly.

"I don't know, I was on my way through and I saw him here." John replied.

A police car pulled in behind the ambulance and two officers got out, a man and a woman. They hurried to the scene. Paramedics were strapping Kacey to a backboard and lifting him from the ground. One of them picked up the jacket.

"This yours?" She asked. Her voice was questioning.

John nodded. "Yes ma'am." He reached out and took Dean's jacket gently from the woman.

The coat clearly wouldn't fit the broader Winchester, but the paramedics didn't bring that up. They hurried Kacey into the ambulance and it tore out of the lot toward the hospital. John was left with the two police officers and he smiled tightly at them. The woman came over.

"You make the call?" She asked in a sharp tone.

John nodded silently.

"I'm going to need to see your phone." She said.

John obediently pulled it from his back pocket and handed it to her. She hit the button for the call log and skimmed through it. She saw the number for the emergency service and nodded before showing it to her partner.

"You found him?" the woman questioned.

"I did."

"Can I get your name?"

"John." The older man replied simply.

"Okay, John. I'm presuming that's your car?"

"It is."

"We're gonna have to search it."

"Go ahead." John motioned them toward the Impala. They took him up on his invitation and stepped briskly over to the vehicle where they began a thorough search.

The father figure stood silently aside and watched. However, his thoughts kept drifting back and forth between his two sons.

* * *

Dean gasped as another jolt of pain rippled through his muscles and a heavy feeling settled in his head, making his stomach churn. He bit it back, leaned his head against the driver's window, and closed his eyes when the cool glass penetrated his fevered skin. Where was his father? Sammy was still in trouble.

He sat up straight and fumbled in the dash for a medical kit. While he didn't find a complete one, he found a bottle of painkillers nestled in the corner. He took the bottle, opened it and shook two of the pills into his uninjured palm. He swallowed them dry, returned the bottle to the dash, and leaned his head against the window once again. He waited in the parking lot of the motel, as his dad had ordered him to do.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard the familiar purr of his car's engine pull up next to him. The door slammed and a light knock rapped at the window. He looked up through weary eyes and stared into the face of his father. The expression on John's face was one of masked concern.

"Dean? Are you doing okay, son?" The father asked, but he could see that Dean clearly _wasn't_ doing the best. The police had held him up longer than he intended and he could only pray that they weren't too late to save his youngest boy from death.

"Yeah, more or less." Dean replied. He covered the pain and discomfort he was feeling. It was the Winchester way. It was what his father had always taught him to do and so, he did it.

"Slide over, we're going to get your brother. I think there's a good chance that the demon took him to the South Serenity cemetery. I sensed the thing's presence when I passed there the first time." John said and waited for Dean to slide into the passenger seat before opening the door and getting in.

"Yeah, I can understand that. There was an odd feeling there the last time Sam and I went by." Dean replied, careful not to mention the fact that Sam had stopped breathing temporarily while at the cemetery.

John started the engine and pulled the truck onto the road. He directed it toward the cemetery and stepped on it. Time was crucial.

**A/N: Okay, Sammy comes back in the next chapter! Until then, happy reading and lemme know what you think!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I would've had this up earlier, but the site wouldn't let me upload it, but it has now, so here's the next part!**

**Chapter 15**

It was dark, cold and musty. There were no sounds around except that of a wind shouting outside. He was in a building, or so he figured. He didn't feel the wind, so therefore it was the only explanation that he could think of. There were wires binding his wrists and ankles, the same type of wires that Kacey had been tied amongst.

He drew in a shuddering breath, trying to force away the excruciating headache that had claimed his skull and refused to move out. He swallowed a lump in his throat and opened his eyes slowly. There was no light, only pitch black surrounded him. It was so dark that his eyes wouldn't adjust to it. The lack of sight made him feel dizzy when he moved his head. He managed to suppress a small yelp that bubbled in the back of his throat and instead, he gasped.

There was a shifting movement nearby; he listened to it, not making any further noise. A sharp object was drawn slowly across his ribs beneath his arm. He felt it prick through the skin and leave a trail of blood where it darted over him. Sam tried to bite off the small moan of pain that slipped past his lips. A cold hand was pressed against his mouth and he felt an icy breath struggle across his face. His skin was sticky from the damp feeling in the air and he inhaled the sharp scent of old earth that hadn't been disturbed for a while.

"Hush, don't speak." The voice that greeted him was more or less a whisper and it scratched in the owner's voice like shifting gravel.

Sam twisted his head away from the hand and it slithered across his cheek as cold mud would do. He winced at the sharp bolt it sent through his neck, but he didn't care. The wires sliced deeper into his skin as he shifted and he could feel them digging their way in to draw blood. He concentrated on the cuts, trying to guess how deep they were. They were deep enough to hurt like hell, but he didn't think they were there to threaten his life. At least he hoped not.

The point of the previous object was once again pulled gently across him, just enough to cut the top layer of skin on his lower arm. Sam winced, but didn't allow the pain to escape past his vocal cords. He squinted into the darkness, looking for a shape, a shadow, anything. He couldn't see. A hand was lain against the side of his head and his world blossomed in pain. From within the pain, he saw the demon's foggy shape and the two eyes watching him in stormy silence. Then it spoke, the same gravelly voice that had told him no to speak.

"It's nearly over." Then it vanished and Sam was left gasping through the pain that clouded his vision.

It was still dark, and he let the threatening tears burning in his eyes fall to his cheeks before blinking them back. Where was Dean?

* * *

Dean's head was resting against the passenger window of John Winchester's truck. The older son's eyes were closed gently and his cheeks were beginning to flush a pale shade of red. John pulled up outside the cemetery and his dark gaze drifted to where his son shifted at the stopping of the vehicle. Dean's eyes slid open and he shook his head lightly to banish the cobwebs.

"We're here." John replied gruffly and unbuckled his belt.

Dean straightened and disguised his discomfort. He didn't want to show weakness, his father wouldn't approve. Still, it was clear that there was pain burning within the man, even through his stony exterior expression. John reached out a hand to brush gently against Dean's cheek to test the fever's progression. It was there, but it wasn't extreme. The heat danced beneath his palm and despite the deep concern he felt for Dean, he reached into the dash in front of his son and pulled out the bottle of painkillers he kept there. His eyes skimmed the label and he saw that it also helped to relieve fevers.

John quickly pulled the cover off and shook two of the tablets into his palm. He grabbed a bottle of water off the seat next to him and handed it to Dean with the pills. The younger man took the offerings silently and downed them both in a matter of seconds. He grimaced as the warm, stale water touched his tongue, but ignored it. At least it was wet and it would work to quench his parched throat. He replaced the cover onto the empty bottle and tossed it back down before stumbling from the truck. John followed suit and met his oldest at the back.

It took less than three minutes for both men to be armed and ready to go in after the youngest Winchester. John took the lead, keeping his son behind him to provide protection. He kept tossing flitting glances back to see if the man was still coming and found, with mounting pride that Dean was pressing on despite the way he was feeling. John had to admire his boy for determination and strength, as well as the way he vowed to keep Sam safe, no matter what. For a split second, John felt a pang of regret at leaving his sons to fend for themselves, but he quickly dismissed it as being necessary to his mission. He wouldn't risk the lives of his boys. However, he seemed to be doing that anyway. He kept moving. His feet pressed noiselessly against the ground as he made his way deeper into the graveyard. He could still sense the demon's presence and Dean's stealthy behaviour told him that his son did as well.

John stopped and scanned his eyes over the grounds. There was very little to give away the demon's location. The thing could have been anywhere, watching them, waiting to pounce. His eyes darted back to where his son stood on shaking legs, but hiding his weakness and he nodded his approval. Dean's expression of quiet uneasiness didn't change and the man's eyes shifted from stone to stone and crypt to crypt. John pressed on, with Dean close behind.

* * *

Flashes of his father and older brother dashed through his mind as the headache of a vision took hold on him. He saw his father step inside an open crypt and Dean followed. The vision faltered and switched to focus on the men inside. The dark of the cemetery loomed behind them through the open door, and John Winchester's face was set in a grim expression of readiness.

Dean wavered on his feet and slightly doubled over, pressing a hand against his stomach. The man's face paled, but he straightened quickly and gasped a bit. The father figure turned to his son and there was nothing, but worry written in his determined eyes. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and the younger Winchester nodded without speaking. John's hand sought out Dean's cheek and pressed gently against it. Words were exchanged, but they were silent so Sam couldn't understand.

Dean shook his head in the negative, his eyes looking stung at whatever John had said. The older man kept a stern look locked on Dean's face, but the determination of the other brother didn't whisper away. It remained, and his mouth moved. Sam heard it this time.

"I'm fine, dad. I'm not going to leave without Sammy." Dean's cheeks were pale beneath flushed skin.

"Dean, you know how much worse this is going to get." John returned.

"Yes, I do, but I want to get Sam back just as badly as you do. Besides, you need someone to watch your back." Dean said firmly.

"Stay behind me, and that's _all_ you do is watch my back. I'll take care of the demon; you just get Sam back to the truck. You got that?" John responded sternly.

Dean's expression never wavered.

"Yes sir."

* * *

Sam came reeling back to the darkness with a nagging pain in his head. His _father_ was there? Since when did he take time out of his apparently busy schedule to come and help his sons? Sam couldn't recall a time that matched that description. He didn't know if he was glad his dad was there or not, but he knew one thing, after seeing Dean's condition, Sam had one _more_ thing to worry about and that was weighing heavily on his mind.

The silence of the darkness continued around him, and he thought that maybe the demon had finally left for a while. He only hoped it would give Dean and his father enough time to get him out of the dark.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

An open crypt, midway through the cemetery drew John's attention. It stood in the shadows in inanimate silence that made the older man suspicious. He could sense the presence of the demon; his trained senses had learned to pick the electrifying feeling up.

It was a feeling of complete stillness with a presence of evil lurking in the air, not necessarily watching, but well aware that it had been found. He tossed a glance back to Dean and saw almost instantly that his son was aware of the demon's presence as well. Dean's face was stormy, hiding his discomfort behind intense eyes. However, the pale appearance of his boy's skin sliced all of the falsifications that Dean was trying to pull off. His son was far from one hundred percent, but he didn't dwell on it for more than a few moments at a time. Dean wanted to help get Sam back and who was John to take that away from him?

The oldest Winchester was in the lead, keeping Dean safely behind him and he stepped into the open door of the crypt. He was immediately struck by the damp smell of old earth and crumbling cement. He set his face in a grim expression of determination and stepped forward. He felt Dean's presence behind him and heard a sharp gasp escape the man's mouth. He instantly turned to his son, his eyes glittering with masked concern and stepped in front of the pale man. He placed a gentle hand on his boy's shoulder and Dean nodded, speaking no words. Still, John's rough hand sought out his son's cheek and pressed gently against it, feeling the heat radiating from the skin's surface.

"Why don't you wait outside?" John suggested, not really expecting Dean to agree, but it was worth a try, because he could clearly see the man was getting worse.

Almost as soon as John's mouth opened, Dean shook his head in the negative. John saw a look of sharp hurt in the eyes of his son at what he'd just suggested. While his thoughts shifted to scolding himself for suggesting it, he thought it would be in his son's best interest to remain here while John went after the demon and Sam. A sharp look of determination remained on Dean's face and he locked eyes with his father.

"I'm fine, dad. I'm not going to leave without Sammy."

John decided to try one last ditch attempt at getting his son to listen to him.

"Dean, you know how much worse this is going to get."

Dean glared. "Yes, I do, but I want to get Sam back just as badly as you do. Besides, you need someone to watch your back."

John sighed, he should've known that Dean wouldn't listen. He nodded. "Stay behind me, and that's _all_ you do is watch my back. I'll take care of the demon; you just get Sam back to the truck. You got that?"

"Yes sir."

The older man turned away with a stern expression, but once his face was out of Dean's sights, he smiled slightly. The bond between his sons was certainly one of a kind and he knew how strong it was. That knowledge made him proud. He knew that even though he wasn't around his boys very much, they were safe. They kept each other safe.

John continued to walk through the darkened crypt, not sure where to go. The crypt wasn't that large, but it may have gone downward under the ground. He just had to find the stairs, if there were any. His knee struck a solid object that he soon identified as the actual burial box or coffin of whomever had been laid to rest behind the walls. He heard a stumbling step come from behind him and whirled around in time to hear Dean curse for all that he was worth.

"Dean? What happened son?" John asked. His voice was whisperingly concerned.

A small light illuminated the confined area and Dean's pale face could be seen in its glow. However, the light didn't linger on his face for long. Instead it was directed downward and caught the edge of a hidden rope that was attached to the floor. Dean knelt down and yanked on the rope, a section of the floor raised and John smiled in the dark. There was an old ladder that hugged against the side of a shaft and it plunged down into darkness. He brushed gently past his son and began the decent without words; Dean followed behind him, holding onto the sides of the ladder with a straining grasp that threatened to let go at any moment. Luckily it didn't and Dean stepped onto the floor at the bottom with weak legs that wavered uncertainly. A strong grasp on his arm hauled him back upright and it didn't release until it was sure that Dean was standing steadily on his own. The son mumbled quiet thanks to his father, who returned it by tightening his grasp in an affectionate gesture.

"Let's go get Sammy." John whispered, his voice not traveling beyond Dean's ears.

Dean nodded and followed the older man, whom he called father, down a short corridor and to a tightly shut section of wall. It was dark, except for the tiny beam of light that Dean held his hand against to keep it from illuminating the entire area. In the dim glow, Dean's face looked whiter than before and John's skin was half illuminated and half in shadows by the weak beam that Dean allowed to escape. There was a shuddering sound behind them and both men immediately recognized it as the trap door closing. John shoved Dean behind him and readied himself with whatever weaponry he had brought along.

* * *

Sam's temples began to throb in time with his breathing. With every breath, another jolt of pain shot through him. He grimaced against the pain and watched the vision play out before him with wide, anxious eyes that were laced with confusion. 

The sound of the trap door shutting jumped Sam and he searched the darkness eagerly to find the demon that he knew was there. John gently shoved Dean behind him, took a stance in front of the younger man, and with a look of sharp scrutinization, searched the narrow tunnel they'd just walked down. There was a silent, raspy breath that shocked the air and sent the Winchesters into full-blown alert mode. Even Dean, who looked so fragile in the dim light, jumped into action. He quickly removed his hand from the flashlight beam and directed it at the breath. Two pale eyes, pricked with green blinked harshly in the sudden flash. The light was thrown from Dean's hand to clatter to the ground where it immediately went out.

There was a rustle of quick movement and a sharp curse from Dean as something knocked him flat. Seconds later, a similar curse came from John. It was too dark to see anything, so Sam didn't know what was happening. He heard Dean yell out and heard an anxious voice from John asking if he was okay. A breathy 'yeah' was the answer from the man who had yelled.

There was a flourish of movement, combined with the sounds of harsh breathing and an unexpected scream. Sam didn't know whom it had come from. The scream had been short, sharp, and unidentifiable. Then there was silence and Sam came bursting back to reality with a sharp cry of 'no!' His head pounded and he struggled against the wires that only dug deeper into his skin. He called out in surprise at the sharp pain the wires forced upon him and breathed through it with deep, gasping breaths, struggling to fill his weary lungs with air.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

A rasping breath sighed through the air and Dean acted quickly by pulling his hand away from the beam to illuminate the short corridor. Two familiar, green punctured eyes squinted at the flood of light and Dean felt the shaft of the flashlight being torn from his hand to clatter against the ground before going out completely and flooding the area with darkness.

The sound of movement advanced on Dean quickly, and before he had the chance to respond, something knocked him flat to the ground. He cursed aloud and the darkness momentarily spun around him. He struggled to get back to his feet. A rather colourful curse came from John's lips, but Dean couldn't see where his father was. He groped his way back to his feet, but before getting very far, he was knocked back to the ground by something pressing on top of him. He yelled out as the air was temporarily forced from his lungs.

"Are you okay?" John called out, his voice laced with concerned anxiety.

The weight on top of Dean's chest vanished and he called out a breathy affirmative into the darkness. Dean pawed his way back to his feet and leaned against the cold wall. A surprised shout of 'no' drifted through to greet Dean's ears, and he perked at the sound. The shout was soon followed by another sharp cry, easily detected as pained. Dean recognized the voice.

"Sammy?" He called into the wall. He searched desperately for a way in; looking for a door that he knew had to be present so he could get to his little brother.

There was a piercing yell from behind him and Dean's ears rang with the echo that it sent crashing through the corridor. He spun harshly to face the noise and in stunned silence listened for anything further. There was some rustling, but nothing more before the sound of the trap door closing again slammed through the dark.

"Dad?" Dean called.

There was a gasp that came from nearby and Dean rushed toward it. His toe struck something soft and solid on the ground and he dropped, feeling the form for any sign of familiarity. It was hard to identify in the dark and Dean's hand brushed across a wet sticky substance that he knew almost instantly was blood.

"Dad?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine. The demon's not. I managed to give it a pretty good stab with the iron pipe, but that's not gonna take care of it. The only way to get rid of it is to banish it. To do that, I have to be in close enough proximity so it'll take effect." The form under Dean's hands shifted and sat up.

"So that scream, that was…" Dean asked.

"The demon." John finalized.

"Oh." Dean said softly, thankful that it hadn't been his father who had yelled.

Then he remembered the shout that he'd heard from his brother and immediately went back to the wall. His head spun sickeningly and he leaned into the stone for support while he searched for the way in.

"Sammy? You in there?" Dean called.

"Dean! Are you okay?" Sam's shout came reverberating through the wall.

"More or less. Are you?"

"Been better, but I'll be fine." Sam called back.

"Hey, Sammy, you know how I can get in there by any chance?" Dean called.

The oldest brother's words were beginning to weaken, and John didn't miss that factor. He staggered to his feet and moved toward his son's voice. He could hear the younger man panting in the dark and reached for him. His hand grasped his boy's upper back and he felt the heat from the fever burning within Dean, radiating through the layers that the man had on.

"I don't know, I was out cold when the thing brought me here." Sam called back in frustration.

"We'll find a way in, Sam. What kind of condition are you in?" John called to his youngest son. He pressed closer against the wall to hear the answer.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" Sam asked. He had known that his father was in the area helping Dean, but he wanted to know _why_. What had made John come after leaving them on their own for so long?

"I'm helping my boys, now what kind of condition are you in? What did that bastard do to you?" John called through the wall.

"I'm tied, got some cuts and bruises and one hell of a headache, but that's about it." Sam called back.

"We're getting you out of there." John replied simply.

There was silence from Sam's position, but there was a distinct feeling of relief hovering in the air. John's hands rapidly searched the wall for a latch, or _anything_ that would allow them to get in with the youngest Winchester. He felt a crack in the wall and forced his fingers into it to pull back the door with all the strength that he had in him. It moved with a grinding sound and opened into another room. A soft gasp was heard from within the room and John made his way toward it, with Dean following not so far behind.

"Sam?" Dean called, hoping the other would answer and give him a direction to go in.

"Over here." Came the reply.

Dean moved toward it, but John got there first. The Winchester father laid gentle hands on the youngest man and felt for the ties that had him bound. He pricked his finger on barbed wire and cursed when he realized that that was what Sam was tied with. He worked frantically to free his son from the wires and although it was difficult in the dark, Sam's tall form was released and thudded to the ground with a notable yelp of surprise. Soon however, the young man was on his feet and immediately searching for his brother.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"Right here, Sammy." Came the winded reply and Sam moved toward it. The young man saw his brother's shadow in the dark and grabbed onto it. He felt an intense heat radiating from Dean's skin and pulled back in alarm.

"What's wrong with you? You're burning up!" Sam exclaimed.

"Demon antidote. Damn stuff messes with your body." Dean cursed.

"You'd be dead by now if I hadn't given it to you." John snapped suddenly.

Dean was silent and his breath could be heard coming in sharp pants in the black that was surrounding the family of three. John sighed.

"Let's get back to the surface, I have a demon to banish." The father replied.

There was no argument from either son as they groped their way back to the trap door and climbed up into the main crypt. A dark night greeted them, lit only by a few scattered stars and a cloud covered moon. All three men could sense the demon nearby.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

There was a soft wind that sighed amongst the tombstones. The three Winchesters carefully exited the crypt and breathed in the night air. The soft glow of the moon danced across their skin and illuminated the cut stretching across John's cheek and another patch of blood seeping through his clothing in the area of his right shoulder. In the moonlight, Sam saw just how pale Dean looked. The oldest brother's cheeks lacked any colour whatsoever, and his fever-glazed eyes shifted back and forth between the other two men. A thin sheen of perspiration was painted across Dean's forehead and it glittered in the light cast to earth by the moon overhead.

John's eyes wandered the graveyard, searching all the visible shadows for the demon. A simple shadow of movement ghosted amongst the tombstones and John instantly made his way toward it, Sam started to follow, but John hissed a sharp no.

"Take your brother back to the truck, Sammy." John replied, his gaze switching between his two sons.

"But dad." Sam began.

"Don't question me Sam, just do as I ask." John replied.

Sam's eyes stormed with shadows at the tone his father had taken, but he didn't say anything further. Instead he turned away and gently tugged Dean with him. Surprisingly, the older brother didn't resist and even allowed Sam to lead him, like a child, through the graveyard and back to the truck just outside the fence.

When the brothers had nearly gotten there a sharp pain lanced through Sam's head. He called out in surprise as the pain sent him whirling to his knees. Dean's blank eyes instantly switched toworry and he dropped next to his little brother. He pressed a hand against the other man's shoulder to keep the youngest from falling, but the hand being placed was just as much to keep _him_ steadied, as it was to steady his brother.

Short seconds later, Dean heard something that sounded like the wind blowing. He felt cold spots break out all over his body and the next thing he knew, he was being forced away from his brother to sprawl uselessly on the ground nearby. He looked up from where he landed and saw a dark shadow kneeling next to Sam. He struggled to his feet and immediately jumped at it. The form was icy cold beneath him and it worked to free itself from the clinging Dean and tossing him back to the ground.

Pounding feet echoed in the Winchester brothers' ears. Dean looked up to see his father hurrying quickly toward them. The eldest Winchester held an iron pipe in one hand and his eyes flashed with determination. John watched Sam struggle against the demon; he heard his youngest son yell out in pain and jumped into action. He shoved the iron against the demon and it yelled out in agony while Sam toppled backwards, barely conscious.

Without looking to his youngest or his oldest boy, he went about what he had been intending to do. His mouth moved in a foreign language as he recited a banishing spell from memory, all the while he held the iron tightly against the howling demon. The creature's pinpricked eyes stared daggers at John, but the Winchester father didn't even flinch. He continued the recitation, but before he reached the ending, the demon pulled away and tossed John back. The father continued speaking the words, but they were taking less and less effect as the demon hurriedly backed away. The thing's skin was sickeningly illuminated in the soft light of the moon that brushed gently across the tombstones and touched the Winchester family without a sound.

The youngest man lay panting on the ground, trying to find the strength within himself to get to his feet and help his family. He couldn't find it, it refused to surface and instead he could only wait out the pain in his head that was now backing off. His eyes darted about the graveyard and watched the demon slink away into the shadows. It made no sound, and simply vanished into the night without so much as a sigh. John got quickly to his feet and went to drop next to Sam, who was working his way to his feet.

"Did you get it?" Sam questioned, taking the hand offered to him by his father to pull him fully upright.

John shook his head. "No, I didn't get it."

"Are you going to?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure as hell going to try, but first we have to get your brother to the hospital."

Sam's eyes widened and he shifted his gaze to Dean, who was just barely starting to sit up. The younger brother rushed to Dean's side and helped him, feeling the heat radiating from the older man. He licked his lips in concern and began to pull Dean up. The job got considerably less difficult as John moved around to the other side and reached around Dean's waist to steady him. The Older brother gasped suddenly and doubled in on himself, sending all three to their knees.

"C'mon, Dean, we've gotta get you some help." John spoke and hauled Dean upright again, Sam following closely behind. The oldest son tried his best to support himself, but his legs refused to do the job and he was left depending on his little brother and his father to help him to where the truck waited.

The outside world spun around Dean and he staggered on his feet. There was the sound of the door being opened and then he felt himself being gently lifted inside. He settled into the seat and moaned slightly as his stomach took a nauseating twist. As a precaution, he leaned out over the gravel shoulder of the road and breathed through the stinging sensation edging slowly up his throat. Somebody was rubbing his hand in comforting circles across Dean's back. He cast a look to the side and saw that it was Sam, looking very concerned and tight-lipped. Dean managed a small smile at his younger sibling and Sam returned it.

John kneeled to meet Dean's eyes and his face lifted into a look of worry. He pressed a hand against Dean's cheek, felt the heat, and his expression fell, just a little. He moved his hand from the man's cheek to his shoulder and grasped it tightly.

"You okay now? "John questioned warmly, and Sam's face blanked with surprise at the tone of his father's voice.

Dean nodded shakily and eased himself back into the truck where he waited for the door to close before leaning his head against the cool glass. The driver's side door opened and Sam slid in next to Dean, while John took up residence in the driver's seat. He cast his eyes to his sons and for a split second truly saw just _how_ strong the bond between the two men was. He looked in Sam's eyes and saw nothing, but love for his older brother, then he looked to Dean and saw that the man was considerably more relaxed, knowing that Sam was with him and safe.

The truck was started and pushed into gear. The Winchester father eased the vehicle out onto the road and made his way to where the hospital emergency room waited for any patients that would come in the night, patients such as Dean.

In the cemetery, a dark shape watched the vehicle pull away and slithered back into the shadows, not sure what to do next. So, it simply watched in a silence that dampened the sounds of the night.

* * *

"Stop the truck." Dean's voice was urgent and shaky. John immediately did as he was told, pulling onto the shoulder of the road. 

The passenger side door was opened and his oldest son's shoulders began to heave jerkily. Sam held tight to Dean and placed a touch on the other. The concerned hand of the young Winchester rested on his brother's back in a gesture of comfort as he waited for the heaving to subside. It did, slowly and Sam, who pulled the door shut again, helped Dean back into the truck. The oldest brother's eyes were fever-hazed and his skin was pale. A slick sheen of perspiration glistened brilliantly on the man's face and he leaned his weary head back against the seat that he was slumped in.

John reached to the floor and pulled a fresh bottle of water from the cooler resting at Sam's feet. He handed the bottle off to Sam, who opened it and handed it to his brother. Dean reached for it with trembling hands and sipped slowly at the beverage that washed the foul taste off of his tongue. When finished, he handed it back to Sam, who replaced the cap and settled it next to him, he looked to his father and nodded. Sam pulled Dean closer to him to keep the man from falling and Dean didn't resist. He only pressed his chin to his chest and closed his eyes to shut out the spinning.

John continued the remainder of the way to the hospital, casting occasional glances to his boys to be sure they were going to be okay.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Sitting next to his brother's bed, Sam watched Dean sleeping. He watched the slow rise and fall of the older man's chest, and saw that in sleep, Dean's face was tense as though he was expecting something. The man shifted position and Sam held his breath, hoping not to wake him. Dean needed all the rest he could get. The older brother settled again and with a soft sigh, turned onto his side. Soon, the steady sound of his breathing assured Sam that no harm had been done.

Sam blinked tiredly, feeling the throbbing of his freshly bandaged injuries coming back to him. He rotated his wrists carefully to stop the pain and licked his dry lips. His gaze drifted beyond Dean's bed to the windowpane that glared in the early morning moonlight. The time was about three thirty a.m. and Sam hadn't yet slept. He'd been keeping watch over his big brother like a shepherd watching a flock of sheep. Every movement Dean made, Sam caught. By now, Sam had memorized the pattern of his brother's breathing while in sleep, so if Dean were to awaken, Sam would know.

Soft footfalls came into the room and Dean shifted in the bed once again. Sam turned to see who had just entered, and saw his father standing behind him, looking rather worn out. The older man held two cups of coffee in his hands and handed one to Sam, who took it gently, to sip at it cautiously, so he would avoid scorching his tongue.

"Thanks." Sam replied with a small smile.

John only nodded and more or less collapsed into the empty chair next to Sam. Although the other brother moved a bit, he soon fell back into sleep. John and Sam watched.

"That demon is still out there." Sam replied just above a whisper.

"I know, Sammy. We'll get it, but I think we all need a bit of a break at the moment. We'll wait until the worse of the storm has passed for Dean. That should be rolling around anytime and we have to be prepared." John stated.

"I know, dad. I _am_ prepared. I know what's going to happen. I've seen it before. If I'm remembering correctly, the last time was with you." Sam said.

"I know that you know, and Dean knows it too."

Sam was silent, and he felt his eyes dropping shut, but quickly shook his head to waken himself again. A hand touched his shoulder, and Sam was surprised that it was the hand of his father. The oldest Winchester's eyes showed a deep care for his youngest boy, and those eyes looked to Dean without wavering. He turned his head back to Sam.

"Why don't you try to get a bit of rest. If there's a change in Dean, you'll know, trust me, but you need to sleep Sam, you look like a train wreck." John smiled wryly, but Sam's face was dead serious.

"Dad, I can't. Not with Dean this…this…vulnerable." Sam said, after his struggle to find a word that would sound semi-correct.

John's expression fell still as he searched the eyes of his son. He saw them droop in exhaustion and sighed.

"It's up to you." John replied, knowing that Sam would be asleep within the next ten minutes.

Sam smiled tightly and settled himself further. Just as John had predicted, the man fell into a light slumber about seven minutes after he'd switched position. John smiled at his boy, and focused his gaze back on Dean, who was still soundly sleeping.

Less than half an hour after Sam had fallen into sleep, Dean began to shift, frantically. He grabbed at the blankets and tossed them aside, while his face contorted into a variance of emotions ranging anywhere from slight discomfort to all out agony. A thick sheen of perspiration coated his skin and beaded on his cheeks as well as his forehead. His pale skin became flushed as the fever spiked for the final time in the process and he gasped his way back to consciousness.

Sam had snapped to when he'd first heard the shifting movement from Dean and he watched as his father stood and pressed a gentle hand against the man's shoulder as an offering of kindness. Sam saw his brother's distress and grew anxious as he watched the physical struggle that Dean was going through. The man's eyes slid open and widened as he tried to regain his breath. John's face was concerned and he turned to Sam.

"Stay with your brother. I'll go and get a doctor." John replied, urgently.

Sam nodded and moved in next to Dean while John left the room and returned a few seconds later with a doctor in tow. There was a flurry of motion and Sam was pushed away to stand next to John as the doctors and nurses worked. Less than five minutes later, Dean had a breathing mask on and his thrashing motions were non-existent. The room cleared out and Dean rolled his head to face Sam and John, who once again took up their posts next to the ailing Winchester. He reached up to pull the mask away from his mouth once his breathing had settled and he blinked a few times as if to clear the fuzzy colours from his vision.

"The worst is over, Dean." John said simply.

Dean nodded wearily. He knew. He cast his eyes to Sam, but they refused to stay open and he slipped back into sleep, his chest rising and falling in time with his breath. Sam watched his brother in silence and then walked quietly to the window where he gazed out onto the street a floor below him. The roads were deserted, and the street lamps glowed warmly in the silent dark. A shadow moved in the night and stepped under one of the lamps. Sam's eyes locked with it and he watched as the figure turned its head up to the window.

Sam gasped silently when he was greeted with the eyes of the young Jonathan. The man's face was shadowed in the glare cast by the light and the expression was a picture of blank mystery. The young man's eyes watched him and he felt his flesh creep with the electricity being stared in his direction. Sam blinked and Jonathan was gone, leaving him with and odd tingling sensation boiling just beneath the surface of his skin. The young psychic was still in contact with Sam. Either that, or the nineteen-year-old was under the demon's control. Both possibilities left Sam with a feeling of uneasiness.

_"It's not over, yet." _Came a whispering sentence that echoed in the back of Sam's head.

Sam turned at the sound of a shuffle in the room behind him. He saw his father moving and his eyes went beyond the older man to the slightly ajar door that opened into the hall, Sam was greeted by the dead psychic's eyes once again, but this time, the eyes were different. They changed and paled. A green dot erupted from within their depths and stared at him with quiet malice. Sam's head exploded in a blossom of pain that sent colourful lights dancing in front of his eyes and he felt a terrifying rippling sensation dashing up his spine that spread over his entire body. His vision blurred in and out of focus. He dropped to his knees with a yelp, clutching his head in his hands.

An urgent voice from his father called to him, but the hazy pain shut it out and Sam couldn't hear what the words spoken were. He felt a strong grip on either of his shoulders, but that feeling soon ghosted away as his sights darkened and he was only left with the silently staring eyes of the demon that reached to touch his mind and pull it closer to gain control. Sam fought it, but in the end, the battle was lost and he dropped away into a deep black that came swirling over him and claimed his soul.

The demon watched with a sick satisfaction as the youngest Winchester writhed in his father's arms. The older man repeatedly yelled to a doctor, but none came. Not yet, anyway, but the demon knew that it was only a matter of time and sure enough the rushing footfalls of a doctor greeted him. He looked up and locked eyes with the middle-aged man who stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move, trapped in the demon's control. The demon watched with a blank stare that held nearly no emotion. The doctor fell and didn't get up. Others rushed to him and gathered him onto a stretcher, forgetting all about the yelling Winchester father in the next room. That was good, that was what the demon wanted. Only a few more moments were needed.

The calls for a doctor continued to come from the door. The demon watched as John held his son close to his chest and tried to solve the youngest man's problem. Another doctor came, after the fallen one had been taken away, but the demon let her come. The creature let her rush into the room, because it was done, the youngest was ready, the next step would be to feed upon the boy's power. The demon waited.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

The youngest Winchester's eyes fluttered very slowly and he hissed at the pain shooting through his skull. His gaze searched the empty hospital room and rested on the windows against the left wall. Small shafts of sunlight sneaked into the room where they flickered against the waxed surface of the floor and gently caressed the crisp, white sheets sheltering his body from the world.

Sam drew in shaky breaths as the pain in his head marched on. Flashing images fleeted feebly through his mind's eye and although he didn't understand them in full, he watched them. The face of a man, half shadowed, half lighted hovered before him. Pale eyes watched and Sam knew that he was seeing the face of the demon. He saw the graveyard in South Serenity and the horrifying images of what had happened the night Sam was rescued paraded through the dark shadows of his mind.

He stood aside and watched as Kacey was wired to the spot where Sam and Dean had found him. He heard the man scream as the sharp metal chewed into his skin and saw him slip into the realm of unconsciousness as the blood from the open cuts dripped to the hungry ground.

A flash of white and he was watching himself being tied in the crypt basement. He saw his body sag in the wires, consumed by the demon induced sleep. He watched the demon move silently about the small room carrying out what looked to be preparations of sorts, but Sam didn't know what for. The demon stopped in front of him and watched him in the stormy silence filling the area, and then it left.

The young brother watched Dean as he lay dying on the cold ground. He heard the call made to the absent father and tears stung his eyes. There was so much pain in Dean's voice, so much hurt and frustration as he spoke the words, Sam knelt next to him, but Dean kept talking, not aware of the younger one's presence. A shift in scenery and he saw John Winchester trying desperately to get in touch with Dean, but the man didn't answer. The phone call replayed again and Sam knew _that_ was what had made his father come running to his two sons. The look on Dean's face in the darkness tore at Sam and he wished he'd been there to help, but he hadn't and he knew that it wasn't his fault.

The battle between the Winchester father and the demon clouded his vision. He saw the result as his father had almost banished the thing. Still, the creature had escaped, leaving the Winchester's alone with each other. A ripple in the vision showed Sam the pale form of Dean leaning out of the black truck belonging to John. He felt his hand touching Dean's back in a reassuring gesture of comfort.

The hospital shimmered in front of him. He saw the sleeping form of his brother looking so weak and delicate on the bed. John sat next to him, Sam stood nearby, eyes locked on his big brother. There was a flash in the window against the wall of Dean's room. He went to it and looked out. He saw the dead psychic watching him from the street. The boy's face shifted and the demon stood in his place. The pale eyes stared back. Those eyes that held no emotion and no glimmer of humanity reflected only death and destruction.

Blackness bombarded him and the faint eyes of the creature emerged from the swirling depths of darkness. Black again, then the sound of shallow breathing rasped sickly in Sam's ears. It surrounded him, smothered him. He couldn't breathe; he struggled to draw in air. Then silence. From within the back corners of the silence, a man's scream clawed its way out, loud and piercing. A fresh wave of shattering pain that staggered him, even in his vision, followed. More screaming and then a thick silence that stretched on for an eternity in all directions and taunted him like the eyes of the demon. A sudden crack rang in his ears, he blinked and new images rushed at him, things he hadn't yet seen.

He saw the cemetery and the funeral service for the young psychic who'd been contacting him. The demon stood silently amidst the crowd of mourners, some who were crying, others who looked angry, and some who showed no emotion at all. The demon looked up at him and Sam cringed, watching with gasping breath as the creature walked slowly through the funeral party. The thing was coming toward him. Carefully, anxiously, the young Winchester backed away from the approaching terror. He couldn't get away, a flash and the demon stood in front of him. It reached for him. Sam looked down, closing his eyes tightly, but the creature unceremoniously yanked Sam's head up by forcing a hand under his chin. The demon's cold skin broke Sam out in goose bumps and he shivered. The demon forced the brother to look at him and Sam tried to fight. He couldn't, the demon held his chin and kept him from looking away. It watched him silently and Sam's head erupted in a level of pain more severe than before.

Sam screamed and came reeling back to reality where he found himself in the grasp of a middle-aged male doctor with pale eyes pricked with distant green. He continued to yell, fighting furiously against the doctor. He yelled out to his brother. Dean had always protected him before. Dean had saved his ass from the fire more than a few times and so he called to the one person that he trusted with his life. His older brother did not come.

"Sammy!" The yelling voice was close and urgent.

The doctor's face shifted to that of his father, holding the younger man's cheeks in his rough hands. The eyes of the demon watched him from the familiar face. Sam continued to fight, thrashing against the man that held him. He yelled out suddenly in the pain that was splitting through his skull like a pickaxe.

The green-pointed eyes faded to the dark tone belonging to John Winchester as the final tendrils of the vision ghosted away into the past like a bad memory. John's face was worried and anxious as he tried to calm his boy. Sam still yelled as though he was trapped in the fading clutches of a waking nightmare. Tears trailed down the young man's face as he fought against the consuming pain.

Sam tried desperately to calm himself, knowing that the man in front of him was truly his father, and not the demon. With John's encouragement, Sam's screaming faded away and the young man leaned forward into his father's touch as the headache accompanying the vision stole his strength. John only waited, holding his young son to keep him from falling.

A doctor and two nurses tried to move in to help the young man they had been watching writhe and yell out in pain as his father tried to comfort him. John shook his head in the negative as his efforts finally reached Sam's pain hazed mind. The son's eyes lifted to face his father and John ran a hand over Sam's perspiration soaked hair.

The medical doctor bent low over the bed that supported Sam's weight and checked his patient thoroughly. From what he could tell, there was nothing wrong with this young man, aside from the healing cuts and the stress caused by having his brother just a few doors down from him. Other than those items, the young man was perfectly healthy, all scans and tests had revealed that much. Still, something was getting to him.

After a few more moments of uneasy silence from the Winchesters, and further examination by the doctor, the room emptied, leaving only Sam and his father watching each other with cautious uncertainty. John's eyes were stonily concerned as he passed them over his son critically. Sam shifted uncomfortably and winced at the headache still pounding in his skull. John's face softened just a bit when he saw the wince, but it soon returned to business.

"Sammy, what's going on?" John questioned. Although his voice was genuinely concerned, there was a slight quiver of criticism within it.

"It's the demon." Sam said, as though that explained everything. He then shoved the covers to the side and stepped down onto the morning-chilled floor.

The youngest brother cast his eyes over the hospital gown that he wore and with a confused expression looked to his father.

"Dad, where are my clothes?" Sam questioned numbly.

"The closet." John replied, with a blank expression. He watched his son as the man made his way to the closet, holding the gown together in the back to save himself embarrassment.

The youngest Winchester gathered his clothing impatiently and crossed the floor into the bathroom where he showered quickly and changed. About twenty minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom to find that his father was gone. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and left his room to make his way to Dean's where he knew that John would be.

Sure enough, as Sam turned the corner into Dean's room, he saw his father sitting in a chair next to Dean. The older brother was sitting up with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. He and his father were submerged in a deep conversation as Sam stepped beyond the threshold of the door and wandered toward the two men. Dean looked up with a smile and Sam saw that the man's face had more colour seeping into the pale cheeks and a slight sparkle had returned to his eyes. However, there was also something aside from the gentle sparkle, there was a glimmer of concern as he passed his eyes over his little brother.

"Are you okay, Sam?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine, Dean, really. Are _you_?" Sam asked, turning the tables on the older brother.

Dean nodded. "I'm getting there. Doing pretty good."

Sam's face remained blank as he looked around the small room. John Winchester turned to face his youngest son and the expression beneath the eyes was stern.

"Why didn't you tell me about the demon's effect on you? Sammy, I shouldn't have to depend on Dean for the answers." John's voice was gruff, but still worried.

Sam shrugged, not knowing how to respond. A fleeting image of the funeral darted through his mind's eye and he gasped at the sharp jolt of pain. John rose from his seat and led the younger man to the bed. Dean moved over to allow the younger to sit. Sam massaged his forehead, but said nothing to his father about the visions.

"Sam?" Dean asked. The brother's voice was soft and it chimed gently in the younger's ears.

The man in question looked at his watch and read the time as shortly past noon. His stomach grumbled a bit and he got to his feet and turned to face the two men. The painful pressure in his head began to build as the flashes slowly crept into his sights.

"I'm going to the cafeteria for something to eat." Sam replied simply. He crossed the floor and exited the room quickly.

He leaned against the wall outside of the room and hissed at the building pain in his head. He watched the onslaught of images that dashed through his mind and saw the South Serenity cemetery once more. The large funeral party stood around the ash filled stone of Jonathan and a priest read from a bible. Next to a nearby tree, Jonathan Dayton stood, watching through gently dancing eyes. He didn't seem to notice Sam and instead went to stand next to his sobbing mother and red-eyed sister. He passed his gaze between them both and then his eyes shifted to where his father stood, holding his mother in a protective grasp. He smiled slightly and watched the priest continue the service.

Sam found himself slowly crossing the cemetery grounds toward the funeral party, with a mounting sensation of rippling skin on his back and arms. His neck prickled as he drew closer and Jonathan looked up to where Sam stopped in his tracks. The dead psychic moved through the crowd toward Sam, slowly. He walked over the ground without making a sound and came to a stop in front of the youngest Winchester.

"_It's not over yet, Sam."_ The Dayton boy replied with his voice soft and whispering.

"I know, but it will be soon." Sam responded.

"_Don't be so certain. Many have tried to defeat the demon and all have failed. What makes you any different?"_

"I'm not going to defeat it. It can't be defeated, but it _can _be banished and sent away from this reality."

"_By whom? You don't know the words to say."_

"No, but my father does." Sam replied sternly.

"_Yes, he does. However, the demon knows your plan and it wants _you_, Sam. It needs you. Do you really think it'll let itself be banished?"_ Dayton replied.

"It'll be banished, don't worry." Sam replied.

"_I'm not worried."_ The dead boy replied and with a sly, suspicious smile, he vanished.

Sam watched the spot where the boy had just been standing, expecting it to come alive once again, but it never did. He lifted his head to greet the funeral party and saw the demon watching him silently. The creature moved amongst the funeral party and people dropped to the ground behind it. Sam ran to the scene and kneeled to press his fingers against the neck of the nearest person. No beat thumped beneath his touch. He looked up and the demon locked its eyes on the young man.

"_You're running out of time."_ Came a slick whisper in his ears, he looked around and saw that the demon had disappeared, leaving behind only the bodies of those he had killed and Sam, who's mind screamed at him to hurry.

He jerked back to awareness and found that he was still leaning against the wall outside of Dean's room. An unfamiliar nurse eyed him critically, but he smiled to dismiss her glance. She returned the expression and gathered an armful of papers. She then went down the hall towards the emergency room.

With a glance back at Dean's room, he made his way to the cafeteria, where he'd said that he was going and sat at one of the tables to chew on an apple. The flashes of the funeral kept replaying behind his throbbing temples and he lost himself in thought. What pulled him out was the sensation that another was present. He turned to face his father, who settled himself in a seat next to Sam. The younger brother finished his apple and set the core aside. He turned to face his father and spoke.

"We have to go after that thing, dad and we have to go today, before two." Sam replied.

"Why before two?" John wondered.

"Cause that's the time of the Dayton boy's funeral. I take it Dean told you all about what's been going on since we got here in Serenity?" Sam questioned curiously.

"He's told me that the Dayton kid claimed to be a psychic and he's been in touch with you from the grave. He also told me that for some reason the thing is after _you_. Why is that, Sam?" John asked.

"I don't know, but I know it has to be destroyed, _today_."

"I agree, if you're finished here, we'll head out to the cemetery. Dean said that the service starts at two?" John wondered.

Sam nodded and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that still drummed in his head.

"Meet me at the truck, I'll tell your brother where we're going." John replied and Sam complied, making his way out the main doors and to the waiting truck in the visitor's parking lot.

* * *

"You're _what_?" Dean asked in surprise when his father had told him the news. 

"We're going to a funeral to banish a demon." John responded again.

"And you're just gonna leave me here? I don't get a piece of the action?" Dean asked, his voice disappointed.

"Not this time, Dean. You're still healing." John replied.

"Hey, I'm healed! Can I go now?" Dean requested.

"No, Dean, you stay here. Sammy and I can take care of this on our own."

Dean sighed in frustration, he couldn't believe that his father and brother were just going to leave him in the hospital while they were out getting rid of some demon that'd been tormenting _his_ brother. He shifted stormily in the bed and his father's stern eyes locked with his.

"We can handle it." John said again, seeing that Dean was ready to protest.

"All right, fine, but if you get Sammy killed, I swear to God he'll haunt your ass and I'll back him up all the way." Dean replied.

John smiled slightly.

"I think it's Sam's choice who he haunts. Don't worry, he'll be fine, we'll be back before sundown." John said.

"If you're not, then I'll check out of here and come after you _myself_!" Dean replied hotly.

"You stay put, we'll be back." John ordered.

Dean's face shifted into a silent expression of annoyance and subdued frustration. He reached for the television remote and slammed his finger down on the power button.

"Dean, stop pouting. You're old enough to act your age." John said with a slight smile.

The man's son cast a sarcastic glance in his father's direction and turned back to the television.

Quickly, John backed out of the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

**A/N: Okay, with the next chapter comes the final showdown! Stick around and it should be up soon! Until then, leave me with your thoughts on the situation and tell me if there are any things that you want addressed before the story's end, because the end is just around the corner! Also, tell me if there are still some loose ends to tie up and I'll try to get to that in the following chapter, one or two more should do it! **


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

It was time. Sam watched the roadside fly by as his father drove toward the cemetery where the funeral service would be starting in less than fifteen minutes. Sam didn't know _exactly_ what to expect, but he had a faint idea, a _very_ faint idea. He cast his eyes to where his father concentrated on the road ahead of him, not looking to either side. The older man was deep in thought and Sam knew that he was running through scenarios of what could take place.

A rippling chill made Sam shift squeamishly in his seat and he directed his gaze out the window as John pulled up outside the cemetery. There were no cars in the region as of yet, but the funeral party would be soon to arrive. His eyes darted through the cemetery grounds, searching for the shadow of the demon shifting through the area. He didn't see it, but he felt its presence.

Without a word, he exited the truck and stepped onto the solid ground. His father was already making his way through the gates, armed with whatever would be needed when Sam shut the passenger side door. As the youngest Winchester stepped beyond the cemetery gates, the sky overhead slowly darkened with wildly flailing grey clouds.

"Don't tell me that this bastard can control the weather too." John muttered more to himself than to his son.

"Apparently." Sam decided to answer anyway.

Sam's eyes brushed across the form of John Dayton leaning against a tree next to his tombstone. The dead psychic looked up as Sam walked closer and his face remained blank. Sam kept walking, his father veered off in another direction to search. Clearly the father figure didn't see the psychic's ghost watching him closely.

"_You came."_ Dayton replied. With a flicker of movement, he was standing in front of Sam.

"I did." Sam spoke softly.

"_It knows you're here. It can feel your presence."_

"I don't doubt that a bit."

"_It's watching you and your father both."_

"From where?"

The dead psychic's intention was clearly not to tell, because within the next instant, the apparition had vanished. Sam stared in disbelief at the spot the boy had just been standing. Suspicion burned in his stomach and he scanned the grounds with a hard gaze, searching to find the demon.

The sound of a vehicle coming to a stop caught Sam's attention. He turned to see Kathleen Dayton stepping out of a car with her husband and daughter. A man in a priest robe followed. Kathleen saw Sam standing next to John's stone and she quickened her pace to reach him. She looked into his eyes and smiled through her tears. Sam allowed her to pull him into a hug.

"Thanks for coming." She whispered softly to him.

"You're welcome. Jake couldn't come, but he sends his sympathies." Sam replied.

Kathleen nodded in understanding and hugged Sam again before releasing him.

"You know, Kacey's in the hospital now. The doctors say it looks like a bad case of the flu. That, and it seems that he was attacked. I just heard this morning, his mother called to say he wouldn't be coming to the funeral. Some man found him out by the Nature Park." Kathleen replied.

Sam faked shock as he listened to the words.

"Really? That's too bad." He said.

"It is. We're going to pay a visit to him after the service is over." Kathleen stated. Her gaze wandered to where the Winchester father had walked casually onto the scene and was observing the exchange with a confused expression.

"I don't think I know you." The Dayton mother said.

"You don't, I was one of John's professors. I thought I would come and pay my respects." John replied quickly.

"Professor Graycin is the head of the Anthropology department at Bronson. John and I had his intro to Anthro. class together." Sam stated with a smile. John nodded.

"Oh yes, John told me about you. He thought quite highly of you and your teaching strategies, professor." Kathleen noted.

John only smiled as the Dayton family introduced themselves. By the time the introductions were completed, the full funeral party had pulled into the graveyard and the members were walking quietly to the Dayton boy's stone. Sam and John watched the group assemble and the priest began the service.

Sam's eyes darted to where John Dayton's spirit stood next to his mother and sister. The young Winchester watched the ghost in silence as he moved amongst the group, not showing any signs of an organized plan. To Sam, it looked as though the boy was simply seeing who had come, and saying his good-byes that weren't heard by any.

Then he looked at Sam again and the youngest Winchester felt his skin grow cold and clammy. There was a flash of image that invaded his mind and he was staring into the eyes of the demon, which watched him soundlessly, without emotion on its face. Sam blinked and saw the Dayton boy again, this time the dead psychic looked different. Well, not _look_, necessarily. John's_ presence _felt different. It left Sam feeling more comfort than most of the previous encounters. A lot of the previous encounters had left Sam feeling terrified or in so much pain he could hardly breathe. This time was different. He could breathe easy and he felt as calm as he could be. Not even a fluttering heart in his chest made him fear the boy, not this time.

John Dayton moved closer to Sam and just watched him. He didn't speak, he just watched with a soft smile resting on his lips. A comforting smile, one that gave Sam a sense of ease. The youngest Winchester returned the friendly expression and waited as Dayton took a breath to speak.

"_You're here to help."_ Jonathan replied simply with a voice that was warm and kind.

Sam nodded.

"_I knew you would come. I knew it the instant I touched your mind."_

"So it _was_ you?" Sam questioned softly.

Dayton nodded. _"It was, but not always."_

"The demon." Sam whispered.

_"The demon. You and your father have to stop what's going to happen here, today. You know what it is, don't you?"_

"I think so, yes."

_"Then stop it, please. Don't let it kill my family."_

"We'll stop it."

_"Keep an eye on Kaylee. If the demon has his way, he'll kill her first and make mom and dad watch."_

"But why would it want to kill your family? I thought _I_ was the target."

"_You are, but the demon just wants death, and it doesn't care _how_ it gets it. It'll kill everyone here, simply for the sake of killing."_

Sam was silent as the image of the demon killing the Dayton family invaded his mind. He heard Kaylee screaming for her parents and saw the demon slowly tear the life away from the young girl, not caring how much pain she felt. The girl fell still and dropped to the ground all at once, Kathleen screamed for her baby girl and dropped next to the still child. She held her daughter close to her chest and sobbed softly into the girl's hair. The Dayton father dropped to his knees in shock after seeing his little girl being viciously murdered by the man claiming to be a friend of John's. The father's face paled as he watched the demon steal his wife's life and then move in on him. Mr. Dayton didn't move. He let it have him without protest. It had already taken his family, he had nothing left.

Sam watched in silent horror as the funeral party was killed off one by one. The demon turned on his father and Sam heard John Winchester's pained yelling drilling deep into his skull. He watched his father fall and not get up. The older man didn't even breathe in a life-fulfilling breath. There was nothing, but stillness that rested on the oldest man's ashen face.

Sam clenched his eyes shut tightly when he felt the presence of the demon hovering nearby and he felt the intensity of the creature's eyes. The life was ripped away from him in less than thirty agonizing seconds, but he only counted to twenty before snapping back to reality, feeling very drained and tired. His father's touch on his shoulder drew his attention to the other man's stonily etched features and next to the Winchester father, the Dayton psychic stood watching. The young man didn't speak further, but Sam saw the plea in his eyes for the Winchesters' help. Sam's father shivered suddenly and turned his head to stare in the direction that the young Dayton occupied. John Winchester clearly knew that he and Sam weren't alone.

There was a sudden, deafening scream that erupted from within the group of grieving people and Sam's eyes shot to the general area.

"_It's already begun! Don't let my family die!" _John Dayton's voice whistled in Sam's ears and the youngest Winchester ran to where the funeral goers had gathered around a fallen member.

"He's not breathing! Someone call an ambulance!" Came a startled shout from within the crowd.

The Winchesters shoved their way through the tightly packed group and saw the Dayton father bent over the sprawled form of a young, well-dressed man who was clearly attending the funeral. Sam saw Kaylee drop next to the fallen man and with tears streaming down her face, she screamed at the still form on the ground.

"Wake up! Drew, you have to wake up!" She hit the man weakly on the chest and Kathleen pulled the sobbing girl close to her.

"He's gone, Kaylee." Kathleen whispered softly, struggling to keep her own frantic sobs under control.

Sam turned to where The Dayton boy stood with a look of pure shock on his face as he observed the man on the ground.

"_Drew's my cousin. He and Kaylee were close and it seems they've gotten tighter since my...uh…my end."_ John replied. His voice shook with uncertainty as he scanned the crowd.

Another yelp from the crowd and Sam watched a nearby woman fall and breathe her final breath. It was happening, his vision was really happening. Not that they hadn't come true in the past, but this, this was a prime example of when Sam hated how accurate his abilities were. He simply hated it. Sam searched the chaotic crowd for the creature that was taking lives. A shadow flickered behind a nearby guest, and seconds later, that man as well fell and for a split instant, the demon came into full view.

It watched the man fall and without an expression, cast its eyes to Sam before moving to the next victim. Sam jumped into action and shoved the potential victim aside. He felt a glancing tingle as he hit the ground hard and lay in the dirt, dazed into near unconsciousness.

"Michael!" Kaylee cried and Sam felt the girl's presence looming over him. He blinked wearily, struggling to focus on the young girl's tear-stained face and saw the shadow of the demon standing behind her.

Sam's eyes widened as he pulled Kaylee toward him and rolled her out of the way. He raised his head and came face to face with the pale eyes of the murderous creature. The thing watched him for long, agonizing moments, not making any further movements and not speaking. Sam scooted away and the demon followed, reaching for him, trying to grasp at him, but he wouldn't let it. It flickered from existence and the terrified sound of Kaylee's screams pulled Sam to his feet. He searched the crowd to find the girl as she continued to scream.

"_Help her! Save my sister!"_ The voice of John Dayton pierced his thoughts.

Sam pushed through the crowd, following the screams and saw Kaylee, kneeling on the ground with her hands grasped around her middle. Kathleen was next to her and the concerned father supported his daughter in strong hands. A man stood behind her with his head down, holding the child's shoulders. The girl looked up and Sam saw a crimson trail of blood trickling from her nose. Through pained tears, she screamed again and Kathleen cried desperately into the crowd.

"Somebody help my baby girl! Please, help her!" The frantic mother screamed.

Sam saw a flash of movement next to him and watched as his father leapt at the mysterious man holding the girl from behind. Both men hit the ground with a thud and John leapt on top of the other, pressing a small piece of iron against his throat. The man beneath John screamed in agony and the Winchester father began speaking the banishing spell, but another of Kaylee's screams stole his attention away. He found himself blindsided by the demon and was thrown against a nearby tombstone, the back of his head cracked against it and the man lay dazed, trying to fight his way out of the darkness that was slowly quilting his vision.

The man who had thrown John looked up and locked eyes with Sam. In the flitting seconds that followed, Sam felt a terror more real than anything he'd felt before. The youngest Winchester tried to fight the shout that was bubbling in his throat as pain sliced through his head and he hit the ground on his knees. The pale eyes of the demon followed him down and watched him as Kaylee's screams tore through the hazy hum of the cemetery.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Kathleen's horrified eyes darted to where John Winchester was barely moving on the ground. Then she looked at the man who had been tackled. The person in question sat up and cast eager, pale green eyes to where Kathleen sat with her little girl. Kaylee was sobbing wildly and burying herself in her mother's embrace.

"Liam, are you all right?" Kathleen asked through tears. The green-eyed man nodded and pushed himself from the ground. He returned to where Kaylee knelt and ran a hand over her hair. The girl screamed again and shrunk deeper into Kathleen's arms.

Sam hurried into action. Ignoring the pain beating steadily in his head, he sprung to his feet and pulled the man known as Liam away from Kaylee. The girl's screams stopped, but she still cried in agony. Her parents held her to offer a comfort that she clearly wasn't feeling. Sam felt a solid punch to his cheek and his head snapped to the side as stars danced across his line of sight. The demon bastard had hit him! Sam retaliated with a punch of his own, but it never landed as the demon in Liam's form expertly dodged out of the way. Within seconds, Sam found himself pinned to the ground with the heel of a shoe pressed firmly against his neck. He choked around the obstacle trying to draw a breath that would not come.

Nearby, The Winchester father had managed to pull himself to his knees by grabbing the headstone to lever himself up. However, he was unable to find the strength to go any further as the world tilted and spun around him, causing him to tightly close his eyes and block out the view of his youngest boy being choked by the demon.

* * *

This was insane! His father hadn't really expected him to remain behind while he and Sam gallivanted off to send some demon back to hell, did he? If so, than his father was crazier than a pack of hyenas. He wasn't going to lay around in a hospital bed, being lazy and watching the atrocity that was daytime TV, while the only family he had was out laying their asses on the line to make the world a better place. No freakin' way! 

Dean smiled smugly to himself as he successfully checked himself out of the hospital by flirting with the cute nurse at the patient desk. He fished his wallet from his pocket and frowned. How was he going to get to the cemetery? The Impala was at the motel and his father and brother had taken the only other means of transportation in the parking lot. He quickly counted his money and made a decision. He'd take a cab to the cemetery and leave his baby in her parking spot at the motel until he could get back to her. Right now, however, his family came first and he figured he'd get there quicker by cab.

Flagging one down wasn't hard and soon he was on his way to the cemetery, hoping that the driver of the cab would be a speedy Simon and he'd get to his family before he could bat an eye. He leaned ahead in the back seat and tapped the driver's shoulder. The man eyed Dean in the rearview mirror with a questioning glance on his face.

"Step on it, will ya? I'm on a deadline." The oldest Winchester brother asked.

"You're on a deadline to get to a _cemetery_?" The driver questioned in surprise.

"Oh you better believe it. My grandma passed away and she was a stickler for being on time. I don't want to give her a reason to come back and haunt me. She'd whack me with a magazine and repeat what she always said to me about being on a schedule: 'A man on schedule is a man worthy of the ladies.' I can't let all the lovely ladies of the world down because I forgot to listen to my grandma, now can I?" Dean replied with a look that said he was serious.

"Guess not. I wouldn't want to be responsible for a haunting. You got it." The driver smiled and pressed the gas down further.

The vehicle pulled up in front of the cemetery less than ten minutes later, only to be greeted with the flashing lights of an ambulance and a flurry of activity behind the gates of the graveyard. The driver gawked at the scene and Dean practically threw himself out the door, tossed the taxi fare in the passenger seat and raced over the ground to where a group was gathered.

* * *

The ambulance sirens blared in Sam's ears and took the demon's attention for just a moment, but that moment was more than what Sam needed to trip the creature up and roll coughing out of stomping range. The demon snapped his head up to see the youngest brother climbing to his feet with a hand clutching his throat. Sam's eyes didn't leave the demon, yet when the paramedics began hurrying across the grounds, the creature in human disguise rushed off into the far corners of the cemetery. Sam followed.

* * *

Dean searched the group with anxious eyes and saw his father sitting against a tombstone looking dazed, but perfectly healthy. He hurried to John's side and dropped to his knees. His gaze drilled into his father's expression and then he tossed a look over his shoulder to where body bags were being wheeled away and Kaylee was being carefully strapped to a stretcher and pushed away with her parents in tow. 

A paramedic came to John's side and knelt. She was young, maybe twenty-seven, and she searched John's face for any signs of deeper problems than what showed on the surface. From the dazed look in his eyes, she finalized that this man had hit his head and she began carefully feeling around the skull until she hit a tender spot and John hissed.

"Sir, you might have a concussion, I strongly suggest you come to the hospital and get checked out." She spoke in a kind tone.

John shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"But, sir."

"I'm fine. I'll just get my son here to take me home."

The paramedic cast fleeting eyes to where Dean was kneeling, still looking rather pale and she sighed stiffly.

"If you start to experience any odd symptoms like dizziness, or nausea you get your son to take you to the hospital right away."

"Don't worry, I'll get him there if something goes funky." Dean replied and flashed a smile at the woman, who nodded and got back up.

"Watch him closely." The paramedic stated.

"Like a hawk." Dean assured her. She turned and jogged over to where Kaylee was just being loaded into the ambulance.

The alarmed funeral party filed out of the cemetery, some with more tears in their eyes than when they had come and Dean watched them go before turning on his father.

"What the hell, dad? Where's Sammy?" Dean asked anxiously looking around.

"He went after the demon when it ran." John replied.

"You didn't _banish_ that freakshow?" Dean shot.

"I didn't get the chance to finish the incantation," John sighed. Then his eyes blazed as they critically stared at Dean.

"What are you doing here? I told you to _stay behind_." John hissed.

"It looks like I'm saving your sorry asses. You didn't really expect me to stay in that bed while you two got bested by a demon, did you?"

"I had _expected_ you to listen to me for once in your life." John replied.

"For _once in my life?_ Dad, I listen to you on a daily basis, every time you send a pair of coordinates, I do what a good little hunter should do and follow them! Don't tell me that I never listen to you!" Dean snapped.

"Do you know how much danger you've just put yourself in? I told you that Sam and I could take care of the demon, you're still recovering." John said.

"How much danger _I've_ put myself in? _You're_ the one who got his head slammed into a rock by that thing you said you could take care of. Maybe I'm missing something here, but it doesn't exactly look like you gained the upper hand." Dean replied, hauling his father to his feet.

John was stormily silent, but it didn't stop him from glaring at his oldest boy. There was a startled shout from the far end of the graveyard and Dean's eyes widened as he recognized the voice as belonging to Sam.

"Sammy?" Dean shouted.

He released his father, who had by now regained his balance, and took off in the direction that Sam had called out from. John followed behind and recited the incantation over and over again in his head. He was going to finish the job this time; he had to, before the demon killed his sons and every other occupant of Serenity.

The Winchester men's feet pounded against the ground as they rushed to aid the youngest of the three. They reached the back gates of the cemetery and looked beyond them to where Sam was on his knees near a large tree and the demon, still in Liam's form had his hands planted firmly on either side of Sam's face. The creature looked preoccupied and didn't even notice the two men rushing out the nearest opening toward the ailing man.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Everything in Sam was on fire. His body was in complete and total agony. He looked wildly and pleadingly to the area behind the demon where John Dayton stood looking rather shocked, but unable to make a move. The boy started to step forward, but a sharp turn of the head from the demon stopped him even though Sam could see that he was clearly struggling to break the hold that the creature had on him.

"_I can't do anything!"_ John Dayton replied anxiously.

Sam didn't respond, because he couldn't. He wanted the psychic to try harder, because Sam could feel the demon stealing strength from him and with every jolt of pain sent through Sam, the demon gained more control. The skies had cleared off some and patches of blue peaked through the grey clouds, maybe the demon couldn't control the weather after all. Then again, maybe it could, but it was just taking too much of the thing's concentration to focus on Sam and the weather both. One of the items had to be released and Sam knew that it wasn't going to be him.

However, the approaching blue didn't seem to bother the creature. Sam hadn't expected it to. True enough, most supernatural elements came out at night and that's when they were strongest, but perhaps the demon standing before him was an exception to the rule. The brothers had been in contact with this thing both day and night and it seemed to be just as strong at either time. The strength of the creature was constant and unwavering. Another jolt of pain shot through Sam and he yelled out in surprise.

The Dayton boy had ceased all attempts at breaking loose and now, lines of concentration were painted across his face. He stepped closer to the demon, the controlling aura flickering madly and reached out to him. The demon released its hold on Sam and turned to Dayton, who only watched the thing through bright eyes.

Sam collapsed to the ground, his body pulling him into unconsciousness almost instantly. He didn't even see his father and brother rush toward the scene. All he saw was the darkness that swallowed him up the first chance it got.

Dean took the offered iron from his father's hand and pressed it into the demon's back as it began to turn toward them. There was a shout of surprise, mingling with pain as the thing hit the ground, steam rolling out of the small puncture wound that Dean had made. The oldest brother pressed his knees into the thing's back and shoved the iron against the black material of the suit it wore.

"Do it, dad!" Dean shouted above the demon's screams.

John obeyed instantly and began the banishing incantation once more. The demon thrashed wildly beneath Dean's hold, but was unable to escape as the Winchester father continued. Dean felt a heat radiating from the demon that scorched his knees and hands, but he refused to move and kept the iron firmly in place, even as it grew hot to the touch. He grimaced at the metal he held and shot a quick look over his shoulder to where Sam lay unmoving in the grass.

Sunlight streamed through the clouds above and tiptoed gently across Dean's face, he turned his attention back to where John was just finishing the banishment. With the final word said, the demon cried out loud enough to pierce even the thickest silence. Dean's knees hit the ground as the body beneath him whispered away and a dark cloud shimmered from existence.

"Is it done?" Dean asked.

"It's done." John finalized.

Dean quickly tore his hands away from the smoldering iron and shook them wildly. John hurried to Sam's side and knelt, feeling for a pulse. He found one and breathed a sigh of relief. A nod toward Dean gave the younger man a huge sense of thankfulness; he hadn't lost his baby brother. He then looked back to the spot where the demon had just been.

"What about the person the thing was inhabiting?" Dean asked.

John shook his head. "That demon didn't inhabit, it only took on the characteristics of an individual. The man should be nearby, still alive because the demon could only shift into the image of a living person." John replied.

"It was like a shape shifter then?" Dean wondered.

"Yes, but it also had similarities with other demons. It was a lot like a Saenu, but with benefits." John replied.

The father's eyes scanned the surrounding area and he got to his feet. John moved swiftly to a place in the grass further away and knelt, he pulled the remainder of the antidote he gave to Dean from his pocket, kneeled, and splashed the ground with it. Then he stood again.

"Here's the real man, he's fine, just unconscious." John called.

"Poisoned?" Dean asked.

"No. He should be waking up anytime, now that the demon's gone." John replied.

Next to Dean, Sam began to stir slowly, blinking rapidly and clawing his way back to consciousness. Dean smiled and patted the younger man's chest. The youngest brother's eyes opened and he looked wearily at Dean who only flashed a grin his way.

"He's awake, dad." The older brother called. He looked to where John was pulling a now conscious, Liam to his feet and leading him to where Dean and Sam were positioned.

John settled the young man next to Sam who was sitting up with Dean's help. Sam's eyes locked on Dean and a confused look crossed his face.

"What are you doing here?" Sam questioned, but he didn't sound disappointed.

"Pulling your ass from the fire, _again_." Dean smirked.

"Oh, thanks." Sam replied.

"Not a problem, Sammy."

"Dude, it's Sam." The youngest brother corrected.

"You wish." Dean said.

Sam looked up and saw John Dayton watching him with a smile.

"_Thanks."_ The dead psychic replied and without further words, he was gone, leaving Sam with a broad smile resting on his lips.

"I'll drop Liam off at the hospital and then take you guys back to the motel for the Impala." John replied.

The brothers nodded in agreement and made their way toward the truck.

* * *

At the hospital, Liam was taken inside with the aid of John and Sam. Dean followed. After the other man had been taken into the ER, Sam grabbed his father by the arm. 

"Can we stay for a few minutes? I wanna check up on the Daytons." Sam questioned.

John sighed, but nodded with a small smile. "Sure."

Sam thanked him and asked the front desk where Kaylee was being cared for.

"Room three thirteen, just before you get to the ICU." The nurse replied warmly.

"Thanks." Sam told her and then followed Dean and John to the room.

Stepping into the hospital room was both inviting and intimidating at the same time. Inviting, because the moment Kathleen saw the Winchesters she smiled warmly and rushed forward to greet each man. However, it was intimidating because neither brother knew what to expect upon crossing the threshold of the door.

What greeted them, however was a smiling Kaylee, holding her father's hand and casting gentle eyes in the direction of the family of three.

"You know, I still feel like I know you, Michael. You're a lot like John in so many ways." Kathleen replied.

"Maybe that's why we were such good friends." Sam said.

He thought about the communication that he'd been sharing with the other man and realized why he seemed so familiar to Kathleen. When Jonathan had reached out to Sam's mind, a piece of him had gone with it. That small piece imbedded itself in Sam's consciousness, which is how the youngest Winchester knew so much about the Dayton family. In a sense, he'd been sharing the consciousness of the Dayton psychic. That small piece of consciousness was slowly edging away as John Dayton's spirit finally found rest, but there'd always be a piece of the young man with Sam. Kathleen sensed that small piece of her son in Sam and therefore, felt as though she knew Sam from a previous meeting.

"Maybe." Was all Sam said.

There was a soft knock on the door and all turned to see Kacey watching with a soft smile.

"Am I interrupting?" The young man asked, his grey eyes searching the room and passing from face to face.

"No, not at all, dear. Come on in." Kathleen said warmly and pulled him into a hug. The man returned the hold and then his eyes went to the Winchesters. They rested on John and lingered there.

"I guess I owe you a thanks for getting me out of there." Kacey replied simply.

Kathleen's eyes wandered to the Winchester father.

"You're the man that found him, aren't you, professor?"

John only nodded.

"We've got to get going, we just came by to see how Kaylee's doing." Dean replied.

"Do you really have to be going so soon? You just got here." Mr. Dayton replied.

"Yeah, we really do." Dean responded.

"Oh yeah, we brought Liam in, he's in the ER getting checked over. Everything's fine with him though, so he should be up here shortly. He knows the room." Sam replied.

"Thank you." Kathleen said.

Kaylee smiled and Mr. Dayton nodded a farewell, not leaving his daughter's side. Kacey shook hands with the three Winchesters and thanked each of them in turn. With the farewells said, the three men left the hospital.

* * *

At the motel, Dean got out and immediately went to his car to caress it fondly. 

"There you are, safe and sound, just like I left you." He told the vehicle with a small smile.

Sam shook his head and turned to his father, ignoring Dean's childish obsession with the inanimate object. Although he had to admit, he _did_ love driving that car. Not that his big brother entrusted that honour to him very often, but when he did, he truly treasured it.

John's face was grave, but still showed the compassion he had for his sons.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Sam asked simply, getting straight to the point. John nodded somberly.

"That thing that killed your mother is still out there and I plan to destroy it."

"Why do you have to do it alone? I mean, it killed Jess too, dad." Sam replied a bit sharply.

"Sam, I realize that, but I think it's safer if I go alone." John said calmly.

"What if it's not?" Sam asked.

John gave the young man a look that told him it would be best not to question the decision at the moment and Sam sighed. The youngest brother turned his eyes away and regained his composure before looking back to his father.

Dean, who had been watching the exchange with shadowed eyes, walked up next to Sam.

"Be careful." Dean told his father. The man nodded and stepped forward to pull the oldest into a hug.

"You too. Look after each other. Oh, and thanks for not listening, I couldn't have taken that thing down without you, son. But, that doesn't give you the right to do it again, got it?" John asked.

"Yes, sir. You're welcome." Dean replied.

The father's eyes shifted to where his youngest son was staring coolly at him. John sighed and grabbed Sam's shoulder with a small expression of fondness. He then turned away and got back into the truck. The engine was turned on and the two brothers watched their father pull out of the motel parking lot.

The Winchester father watched his sons in the rearview mirror and kept driving. The boys would watch out for each other. There was no way that Dean would let anything happen to Sam, and Sam would be sure to be there if Dean needed his ass to be pulled out of danger. They worked well as each other's support system and kept each other grounded.

"So Sam, where we headed next?" Dean asked after their father's truck had left their sights.

Sam shrugged quietly and Dean watched the younger curiously.

"You okay, Sam?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine." The youngest man replied before ducking into the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean didn't press further and slid into the driver's seat with a satisfied groan.

"This, now this is nice. I missed this and I'm sure she missed me, didn't ya?" Dean replied touching the steering wheel gently and winking at his little brother.

A small chuckle came from Sam's side and Dean grinned with the satisfaction of knowing that he had gotten through his brother's gloomy attitude and made him lighten up.

"I'm hungry, you hungry?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, a little." Sam admitted.

"Then let's go grab lunch." Dean offered.

"On one condition." Sam said.

"And that is?"

"You let _me_ pick the place this time." Sam smiled, recalling the horrible service they'd gotten at the last restaurant Dean had picked.

Dean thought for a moment with a look of dreamy contemplation on his features and then he nodded.

"Sure thing." He told the man in the passenger seat. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled the car out onto the main road. He leaned ahead and flicked the radio switch, turning the music up to a huge volume.

"Dean!" Sam shot at him.

"Sorry Sammy, did you say something?" Dean teased.

**THE END**

**A/N: Thanks for reading, to those of you that did and I hope to hear your opinions on this piece. Until next time!**


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